Taste of the Warrior
by iwilltry-tocarryon
Summary: Medieval AU, eventual Charloe fic that will include a lot of our favorite characters facing new challenges in a new context. There will be some twists to the story. This is the first time I've attempted a period piece so keep that in mind. I tried to keep everything as authentic as possible, but my Middle Ages knowledge isn't as good as it once was.
1. Chapter 1

Sunshine infiltrating the room of Longstead Castle was an immense distinction to the bleak, dismal, darkness that swallowed the castle and the entire kingdom of what once was Bregonna before the war before the turmoil that would cause a cosmic drift between two brothers and two connected families.

_In the beginning there was but one kingdom that joined together two families: the Monroe and the Matheson clan. The two youngest sons at the time, Prince Sebastian Monroe and Prince Miles Matheson were inseparable. They two formed a bond so strong that it could not be separated. Instead of separate kingdoms, they wanted to merge their kingdoms and rule together in a dual partnership when the time came and they were crowned as kings. _

_Neither of them parents could come up with a plausible reason as to why this was not a good idea. Joining families meant joining forces, making their kingdom one of the strongest and most well fortified in all the land. Money flowed more freely throughout the villages, people flourished under the first few years of their reign. It was almost a magical time, but magic always comes with a price._

_When you ask someone about what happened, leading up to that tragic battle in which the kingdom would forever change, no one can confidently tell you. Sure there is a lot of speculation as to what happened, but there has never been a definitive answer. Princess Charlotte herself didn't know the real reason behind the kingdom falling to pieces, splitting off to form two very distinct kingdoms: one that would be ruled by King Miles, Charlotte's father, and one that would be ran by King Sebastian._

_The only thing for certain is the rift between the two former brothers caused such a drift amongst them the kingdom could no longer remain unified._

_Going down in history as one of the most grueling battles, it was characterized as long, hard, brutal, and financially draining for both sides. Countless numbers of poor souls lost their lives that day, serving who they thought was the true and rightful king of the kingdom until a proposal was made by the higher council. The proposal would secure both of their titles as kings, but to differing kingdoms. King Miles would remain where the unified Kingdom of Bregonna once stood, dubbed the Kingdom of Gallia, where his legacy had began many, many years ago._

_Longstead Castle in Gallia was one of the most enchanting castles ever to be built. Constructed out of stone, due to its resistance to heavy weight and compression, the castle walls stood 213 feet from the base to the very tip of the keep. _

_The castle could be seen for miles, due to its splash of whitewash and it's elevation on one of the highest hills, lifting it over top of the surrounding villages and towns. _

_During times of peace the castle would be home to somewhere between 10-12 knights and their family, living separately from the King and his family. If a threat came about, more Knights would be brought in to secure the castle and the King. In some castles, interaction between Knights and members of royalty was a rarity, but in Longstead Castle, everyone was family and they were treated as such._

_There was no drawbridge, King Miles got rid of that stating he didn't want to feel trapped in his own home. He also wanted the people to feel there was no barrier between them so there was no outer layer or barbican. The only remote blockade was the man made colossal forest, its crenellate wall like structure circling the castle as if daring an enemy to penetrate._

_As for King Sebastian, he would abscond to a place that would be christened as Kairos. Seemingly on the other side of Gallia, he would reside in Malgrave Castle almost identical in size and magnitude to Miles' Longstead Castle. _

_Neither of them wanted to succumb to the treaty proposed by the council, not particular fans of theirs nor fans of governing bodies in general, but they also knew that they couldn't afford to drag the war between them on any longer. Two years had gone by and neither of them was closer than the other to taking over the kingdom as sole ruler. It cost them their men, money, friendship, and a bit of sanity. _

The past must be remembered so that we are not doomed to repeat it. Princess Charlotte Matheson knew that phrase very well because she heard it so often from her tutor, and from her father. He placed a high value on learning all that could be learned about things in the past, no matter how boring of a subject Charlotte thought it to be. And if it wasn't boring, it was depressing, gloomy, and dreary, especially when it related to the war and what really happened between them.

Charlotte had tried for many years to get a definitive answer from her father but was only met with the same grunt of dismissal every time she brought it up or the subject came up on its own accord. She knew that history was important to learn, but how could one make sure they don't repeat it if they don't have all the details?

Basking in the glow of the morning sun, Charlotte sighed, taking a deep breath in as her eyes remained closed and warmth flooded her body. She stood, roasting in the sun streaming from the window of her room until sweat started to bead on her brow. There was nothing she loved more than feeling the sun radiate as it made its way up her body, starting at her always frostbitten toes, all the way to the very crown of her head where she was sure to be nursing a sunburn tomorrow.

The warmth of the sun from her window was as close to the outdoors she got most of the time. Her father and mother, Queen Rachel Matheson, kept her so busy with studies and festivities that she hardly had time to play outside anymore.

As a child it was vastly different. She was encouraged, and spent the majority of her time outside, always accompanied by her father's favorite guard, Knight Nora Clayton. Highly unusual during that time in Gallia for a woman to be apart of the King's army, her father never cared about rules and regulations. She fought valiantly during the war, enough to catch Miles' attention and want her for his on personal guard when the war was over. He caught hell for months after appointing Nora, but knew that she was well qualified for the job and wouldn't trust anyone with Charlotte, more than he did her.

And Charlotte very well knew why, she had caught glimpses of Nora fighting from time to time as the years went on. She was a gazelle in battle, swift, quick, always on her toes. Of course, all of the other men in the army were just as skilled as she was, but there was something different about her other than her impressive battle skills. She was also very smart, highly logical and often could think things through in her head before the time arose. It was those sharp skills demonstrated motivating King Miles to appoint her as Charlotte's own personal guard.

Nora at first was not as happy with her new position, but she quickly grew to love it and as well as Charlotte. She was a spitfire child; Nora couldn't imagine what she would be like when she got older.

Reflecting back on it, childhood had been one of the happiest times in her life because she was allowed so much freedom and time to spend outdoors. It was when she got older things changed. She was often forbidden from going outside without warning, and often without reason. So much so, that a point came when she demanded an explanation. Miles knew he couldn't give her one, so he went back to letting her go outside more until her 15th birthday when he informed her that they would be focusing on her studies more.

That was the reasoning behind keeping her inside. Every time she seemed to finish her work, he found new things for her to try that included music, dancing, painting, and even some sculpting…all of which she hated.

She saw the other kids around the castle, mostly boys that were learning to shoot bow and arrows, fighting, and helping with building. She wanted to do those things, but was often told that it was too dangerous for her.

Finally when her 18th birthday appeared she made it known her interest in learning how to fight, and how to shoot. Rachel was up in arms, immediately saying no to every reasonable request she made.

That infuriated Charlotte, most things that Rachel did infuriated her to be quite honest, but this especially. Miles could see the determined look in Charlotte's eyes; it was something he knew very well.

Asking Rachel to leave them, he got a better understanding of why she wanted to learn those things. Honestly she wanted to learn anything that meant she wouldn't be defenseless if the time came. That was a highly practical reason, and one that Miles couldn't argue with. He made her a deal that she could train with Nora, if she agreed, as long as she kept up with her studies.

It was partially due to Charlotte's pristine reasoning abilities, and also partially due to the fact that Miles couldn't help but beam with pride at her wanting to learn more physical, hands-on activities.

Miles was never disappointed a day in his life that Charlotte came out to be a girl. From the moment he held her in his arms, he couldn't imagine a more perfect being in his life, sentiments which carried on through the years as she continued to grow into his replica. Not even the birth of his second child, Prince Danny, could diminish his love for his only daughter.

He would've been lying if he said he wasn't excited for her to start training, as long as Nora agreed to it.

That's how Charlotte wound up running around her room in a tizzy when Nora rapped lightly on the door, calling out to her, "Princess Charlotte, are you dressed for training yet or are you still skulking by your bedside window?"

Charlotte laughed, throwing on her training gear, prepared to usher Nora in before her eyes landed on a still bloodied sword standing beside her bed.

Cursing under her breath, she looked around the room for somewhere safe to stow it until she had time to clean it and return it to the casemate, the artillery and musketry storage.

Finally she decided upon hiding it up under her bed on one of the wooden planks where it would be safe and out of eyesight.

As soon as it was away she yelled out, "come in Nora, and how many times do I have to tell you, it's Charlie."

Laughing as she entered with her arms crossed over her chest, she shook her head as she watched Charlie flitter about the room, "Charlie or Charlotte makes no difference, both are tardy, forgetful girls with their heads in the clouds."

Dressed in baggy, ebony breeches, she tapped her boots against the cement floor. Even wearing a raggedy white flowing shirt, gaudy spiked belt accentuating her midsection, Nora was a goddess. Her long chestnut hair was pulled up and tied tightly to secure it out of the way, something that Charlie never did and almost always regretted. She couldn't help but feel a rush of adrenaline through her veins when she could see the sunlight reflecting off her light brown hair, the bits of gold catching nicely in the sun's rays.

Once she forcefully shoved the last boot onto her foot, she stood up proudly and smiled, "yes but I always keep my feet on the ground. Besides, never can you find yourself unless you get lost."

Rolling her eyes playfully, Nora ushered her out of the door, checking to make sure the hallway was safe before she resumed her place beside Charlie, "okay Aristotle, save me the philosophy lecture will ya? I joined the King's army so I could avoid all this talk of school."

She pretended to yawn as if she was bored, but Charlie knew better. Nora was incredibly smart, smarter than she let on.

Following, matching Nora pace for pace, a comfortable silence came over them as they turned the last corridor, opening up a winding staircase for them to descend.

Sometimes the castle felt like her oppressor, changing, turning, and shifting every so often so that she would never have a firm grasp on her surroundings. During those times it felt like a place of entrapment and isolation.

Other times like right then when she was on a familiar path, the same path they had taken for almost four years since her 18th birthday, to the training grounds, she felt at ease. Like she was at home…in her own home, a rare feeling.

Rounding the bottom of the staircase, a smile broke out on Charlie's face as she felt the warmth on her skin for real this time, no barrier between her and the outdoors, just the way Mother Nature intended it to be experienced.

Blinking her eyes, she repressed a blush when she saw Nora giving her a feigned annoyed look. Quickening her pace, she chuckled when they arrive to where Nora had diligently laid out swords earlier this morning.

For the first two years of training, it felt like more schoolwork to Charlie because it was all about mechanics of the weapons, learning to read your opponent, and learning your own body.

The year after that was focused mostly on strength specifically because it did a warrior no good to know how to fight with a sword if they couldn't physically hold one. It was also during that time Nora taught Charlie one of the most important things she had ever learned. If there came a time when you were outmanned, outgunned, and could see no possibly way of winning, leave your pride and ego behind and run like hell.

She never encouraged her to run when there was another option, or if her fellow comrade needed help, but she also told Charlie that there were some times when running was the only option.

"Are we actually going to get to use these on one another?" It was intended as an actual question, the majority of the time she saw the others training with the pell until they mastered the art of swordsmanship. But Charlie was known for making sarcastic comments, it was no wonder Nora thought she was being facetious.

Back turned to Charlie, she bent down to pick one up in her hand, pointing the tip at her, "keep sassing and we'll go back to running hills. Your choice."

Charlie looked out to the hills, going for miles off to the side, hills she very well knew were the reincarnation of the Devil himself.

Shaking her head vehemently, she turned back around, "no that's quite alright, I've hit my sass limit for the day it appears."

Satisfied, Nora smirked as she watched Charlie grip the weapon in her hands firmly, and just the way she had demonstrated numerous times. If anything Charlie was an excellent student when it came to things she was actually interested in, and she had a knack for picking up things dealing with weaponry.

"Be careful not to tear any article of clothing, father said if I rip anything else he's going to make me wear those vile, hard to breath in gowns that all the other women are wearing," the loathing dripped off her voice as she all but spat.

Remaining stoic, Nora only kinked her eyebrow, "well then I suggest you stay focused and don't get distracted, little daydreamer."

She had no time to offer a rebuttal before Nora was advancing on her, just in time to raise her sword as Nora's made contact. Forcing as much pressure as she could, Charlie propelled Nora's body far enough away, allowing herself to get a better handle on the sword before Nora struck again.

Nora continued her relentless encroachment and assault, never letting up because she knew that Charlie could handle it. She had spent years with her and knew that the best way for her to learn was to be pushed, and that's exactly what she was going to do, especially without the watchful eyes of her dear father.

Miles came to training sessions once or twice every year to see how things were progressing, and during that time he even taught Charlie a little bit himself though he refrained from saying much, knowing that Rachel was still unhappy about the whole ordeal.

Rachel was also discontent because it should've been Danny out there training and bonding with Miles, but instead it was always Charlie he could see himself in. Danny was the total opposite of Charlie, he liked painting and sculpting whereas she thought that was beyond boring.

Both Charlie and Miles tried to encourage Danny, and even Nora got in on the game. He came to a few training sessions to learn the basics, but it was obvious where his passion lied. After that both Miles and Charlie gave up trying to make him interested in something he clearly didn't like.

Once again her head floated to the clouds and she heard the rip before she could prevent it. Backing away she was met with a smug, self-satisfied Nora, "looks as if you've been doomed to a life of frivolous gowns from here on out Charlotte."

She wasn't angry with Nora by any means, but she was angry at the thought of having to wear either of those things. That anger fueled her rage as she swung her sword before Nora could get hers back up to defend, cleanly cutting her on the arm.

Blood started to pour out, but Charlie didn't lower her weapon in shock like she would've in the beginning. Instead she raised her sword again, knocking Nora's out of her hand while she was preoccupied with trying to stop the bleeding. Pointing the tip at Nora's throat, a self-satisfied grin stretched across her own face as clapping broke out from behind her.

There he was in all his glory, King Miles Matheson, "looking good there kiddo, I see Nora has taught you never to drop your weapon until your opponent is out."

Charlie beamed with pride as she finally lowered her weapon, signifying that the match was over and she had been victorious.

Turning back to Nora, she had tied a piece of ripped cloth, binding the wound, "of course sir, nothing but the best for my protégée."

Miles cringed, "I couldn't imagine anything worse than a mini-me, until I just pictured a mini-you."

Charlie snorted when Nora scowled, until Miles took in Charlie's tattered appearance. A frown formed across his forehead, wrinkles of disappointment evident, "why am I even surprised?"

It came across as more of a rhetorical question, plus Charlie knew better than to incriminate herself any further.

She remained silent as Miles sighed, "as wonderful as this display was, Charlie your presence is needed. There is a gown waiting for you in your room, and one of your ladies will help draw you a bath and make you presentable."


	2. Chapter 2

She blurted out when his back was turned, "is this about the tear, I'm so sorry father, I really was trying to be careful."

Panic and terror laced her voiced and was obvious on her face when he turned back to look at her. His facial features instantly softened as he shook his head, "no dear, of course not. Your mother and I…we just have something we'd like to discuss with you."

When she wasn't convinced he closed the gap and placed a kiss on her forehead, ruffling her head, "I promise, I'm not cross with you about the garments."

He smiled once more before turning his back on them, drifting back to the castle. There seemed something off about him, his body language, his tone, even his eyes.

Charlie stayed glued to her spot, watching his retreating form until Nora came up beside her with a worried expression, "you mustn't worry, I'm sure everything is alright. You know how moody your father can get."

At this statement Charlie laughed, she forgot how well Nora knew her father, but at times like these she was instantly reminded. Charlie nodded, "you're probably right, I should go in before I arrive fashionably late, or tardy as my mother calls it."

Nora said nothing when Charlie brought up her mother, the same response she usually got when it involved Rachel. Charlie had gathered they weren't one another's biggest fans, but she had little idea as to why. Nevertheless Nora nodded her head and indicated for Charlie to begin walking when she was ready.

Charlie had no idea why she said 'I' when she hadn't been alone a day in her life since birth. She couldn't complain though because for awhile she had other guards she disliked greatly until Nora came along. She didn't mind Nora, but every once in awhile she just wanted to be away from everyone and everything, and that had nothing to do with anyone in particular. She just wanted space.

Shaking aside those thoughts, pointless because she would never get that, she proceeded on towards the castle, greeting the cooks and maids as she passed by them. Per the usual routine, she waited behind a fraction of a step, letting Nora enter first to inspect the room.

Cleared for her entry, Nora widened the door as Charlie stepped inside, grimacing when she saw the gown hanging there, peering directly into her soul.

A shudder passed through her body as she faced Nora when she began talking, "see there it's not terrible."

She had to give Nora credit for trying, but that was a downright lie, it was a wonder God didn't strike her down, "yeah well, you put it on and tell me it isn't terrible."

At that Nora made a face, "I'll have Priscilla draw you a bath."

"Not that terrible, ha, what a lie," she mumbled to herself when Nora closed the door softly behind her.

Going back to the catastrophe at hand, the dress was of a light, sky blue color, no doubt one of her mother's pickings. Her mother knew that she detested light colors, so every chance she got she dressed her up in anything dull and dim, claiming that it looked well with her skin tone and her hair.

Ornately fashioned, beads adorned the gown around the rim of the sleeves, and all along the bottom half of the gown, up until almost her midsection.

When it were a family matter they were discussing, she usually didn't have to appear so formal, that gave her the impression that it was something more than her father let on.

A knock on the door brought Charlie back into the present, "come in," she called out and smiled when she was met with Priscilla's shining face.

Priscilla had always been one of her favorite ladies because she was a genuinely happy person that cared about Charlie and what she wanted. She listened to her and tried to advise her in the best possible way, not just tell her to do her duty like the other ladies.

She also adored Priscilla's husband Aaron who was an advisor to her father and her tutor in almost everything.

He was smart beyond comparison and knew a wide selection of topics to discuss, so even though Charlie disliked the method in which she had to learn and often daydreamed instead of paid attention, she couldn't say that Aaron wasn't interesting. He never repeated the same thing in all of her years of being his pupil.

Carrying a large, black iron cauldron that looked much too big for someone of her size, Priscilla smiled, "I'll just dump this water and you're all set your highness."

She sighed and corrected her out of instinct, "just Charlie Priscilla."

With one more smile and an accompanying head nod, she disappeared into the bathroom, discarding the water as well as setting aside the cauldron to be picked up at a later time.

As soon as she exited the room, Charlie pounced on her like a young lion stalking its prey, "do you know what my mother and father want? That gown seems a bit much for just a family discussion, wouldn't you say?"

She was hoping that maybe Priscilla could give her some insight, and she would no doubt if Aaron knew anything about what the urgent matter was.

Sadly though she shook her head, "I'm sorry your highness I haven't been told anything, I wouldn't worry though." Everyone kept telling her not to worry which only made her worry even more.

Charlie allowed Priscilla to help her undress, tossing aside the filthy clothing to be washed later, but whereas Priscilla normally helped her with bathing and making sure her hair was clean, she opted out.

Shaking her head, she called out to Priscilla, "I can handle it, thank you very much Priscilla."

Solemnly she nodded her head, "alright your highness I'll wait right here outside."

Again, Charlie wasn't angry with Priscilla, she just came to the conclusion that bathing was as close to being alone as she was going to get. That proved to be a much more difficult feat than she planned, not accounting for the length of her hair and how quickly her arms grew tired.

Wanting to spend a lifetime in the water, she gave up and exited when it turned cool and Priscilla began tapping on the door, "is everything alright your highness?"

She resisted the urge to say no and roll her eyes, what could've possibly happened while bathing in a barely big enough space for her body, "yes, I'm finished, you may enter now."

Drying off her body as much as she could, Priscilla tried her best to tame Charlie's hair, smiling when it hung nicely down her back, "I know you aren't thrilled with the thoughts of wearing a gown and I wish very much that you didn't have to. I hate to see you unhappy."

As she pulled on her underwear garments, Charlie couldn't help but to feel a little bad at the silence she was giving Priscilla. She had done nothing wrong other than what she was required to do every other day.

"At least it wasn't that frightening shade of pink like last time," Charlie commented as Priscilla laughed lightly, pulling the gown over her head carefully.

While she began to plait her hair, Charlie could get a better glimpse of herself in the gown. As gaudy and lavish as it looked hanging up, it looked a million times more extravagant on. The material, stiff and offering no room for movement let alone breathing, clung to her body, accentuating her hips and flaring out past her feet.

As she stepped into the most uncomfortable looking pair of matching shoes, long and pointy as was customary footwear, the hem of the gown was lifted off the cold stone floor and hung right to her feet.

She felt as though she should be going to a festival or ball of some sort. It felt much too out of place, she felt out of place wearing it.

"There, you look beautiful, as you always do…Charlie," Priscilla admired her with a motherly gaze as she pulled her hair around to the side, smoothing it out.

When Priscilla said her name she whipped her head around and grinned up at her, taking Priscilla's hands in hers, "all thanks to your wonderful work."

Pulling her hands from Charlie's, she patting them before squeezing gently, "no my dear, you were beautiful from the start, I only worked with the canvas I was given."

With those kind words, she and Priscilla parted ways, her absence filled by Nora's now more presentable presence. Her eyes questioningly roamed Charlie's gown, trying in vain to bite back a smile. Pointing a finger in her direction, Charlie frowned, "not a word from the peanut gallery."

Nora held her hands up in a mock surrender, "I'll try to contain all my comments. Your parents have asked you to accompany them in the Great Hall…although I doubt you and that dress both will fit down the corridor."

For a moment, Charlie hadn't heard the underhanded insult Nora threw her way, fixated on the location of their meeting.

The Great Hall was a room for entertaining, receiving guests, and used during mealtimes. Rectangular in length and measuring two times as long as it was wide, reaching almost as high as the heavens, it was one of the grandest Great Halls to ever exist. Its large, extravagant space housed one of the biggest, and most elaborately decorated fireplaces, large enough to stand and walk inside of. The overmantle was just as decorative, coat of arms and woodcarvings adorning the entirety of it. Along the walls, paintings of the most intricate landscapes lined the space below the wooden banister.

Cradling his dark luscious locks in his hands, Miles didn't raise his head when Charlie entered the Great Hall, unaware of her arrival as he listened to Aaron drone on beside of him about all the advantages they would obtain from this deal.

Aaron didn't like it anymore than Miles did, but when Rachel offered it up as a sensible solution, to which the higher council agreed with, he had to look at it from a logical standpoint. It was his job as the King's advisor to cast aside his emotions and feelings, and speak from a more analytical part of his brain.

Miles had one of those analytical parts of the brain when it came to things like battle or fighting, but when it involved people he loved, that part of his brain fell into a deep sleep. He was incapable of separating his emotions, even if it could possibly mean strengthening his kingdom, his home, full of people he loved and who loved him.

To his right stood Rachel, fidgeting nervously with her hands when she saw Charlie enter. Putting on a fake smile, she motioned for the guards to leave and for Charlie to come forward on her own.

Danny said nothing nor did he look up at Charlie when she entered, but instead, sat wordlessly in the chair next to his mother. There was something about curious about this whole thing. Danny was refusing to meet her eyes even though she knew he could sense her presence, her father, who was always alert and aware of his surroundings still had no idea Charlie was there, and her mother, well there was always something off about her character, but today even more so.

"Is everything alright father?"

Concern laced her voice as she came to a halt at his side, almost flinching back when she finally met his eyes. Tired and weary, he looked as though there had been demons plaguing his every waking thought since she saw him earlier with Nora.

Speaking of Nora, she glanced around, seeking her comforting gaze but was only met with emptiness. Rachel had dismissed all of the guards, including Nora.

Her eyes snapped back to her father's as he spoke softly, "please have a seat sweetheart."

He motioned to the chair as Aaron pulled it out for her and although she wanted to refuse, she found her legs bending on their own accord as she numbly sat down. She figured whatever it was she might as well get comfortable.

Not being able to take the deafening silence, she finally broke it, "okay, could someone please enlighten me, what's going on?"

Her mind started fearing for the worst when no one immediately answered and Miles looked to Rachel with a pleading gaze. She only cast her eyes downwards, no, Miles had to be the one to do this himself and break it to her.

Sighing he finally granted her an answer, "Charlotte…Charlie dear, your mother and the higher council have been meeting to come up with a solution to the rising tension due to the trade ceasing. We've been doing alright for awhile, trading with other kingdoms, but none can match the resources that Kairos has to offer."

Charlie nodded as she listened. She understood perfectly, she knew that their resources were depleting, Aaron talked about it some during her tutoring so that she would understand the financial aspects of running a kingdom.

Miles continued with a grave look, "I've reached out to Bass, King Sebastian," he quickly amended, "and while I have nothing to offer him that would be of value, financially or otherwise, your mother felt it was in the best interest of the kingdom to offer him something. Something that would strengthen both ours and his kingdom at the same time."

Charlie didn't say anything; all she did was continue to nod because it wasn't adding up in her head. What could they have to offer him that was terrible enough to put such a somber look on her father's face?


	3. Chapter 3

Realization flashed over her eyes before fury took over and she shot straight up, the chair clattered against the stone floor, "No you can't be serious. Me?! You're offering him me? What could he possibly want with me?"

As she rapidly fired out the questions, she found the answers for herself, piecing it all together from the looks she was receiving from everyone.

"You're sending me away, and not just away, you're marrying me off to a man I don't even know, that I don't even love? How could you? I won't do this. I won't. I refuse, this is barbaric, and you know it."

She pointed an accusatory finger at her father, but it was Rachel that answered, "Charlie, please be real, love is a fictitious daydream, one we don't have the luxury of being concerned with—"

She ignored her mother, "he's the same age as you, old enough to be my father…doesn't that concern you in the least bit or do you not even care?"

Miles winced when he reached out for her and she flinched away as though she had been burned, "of course I care. Believe me this isn't easy for me either, this is the hardest thing I've ever had to do and if we had another option I would exhaust it, but we don't kid. You know the facts, tell me, in all your lessons with Lord Aaron, have either of you come up with a better solution?"

Her shoulders slumped in defeat, it was true, they hadn't, but that didn't mean the only possible solution was to marry her off.

"And you wouldn't be marrying Bass, I would NEVER agree to that. You'll be marrying his son Connor, who I'm told is nothing like his father."

Charlie had no idea what to make of that statement because she had little knowledge of King Sebastian besides the tidbits she gathered from stories told to her as a child by Miles when her mother wasn't around.

When she said nothing and moments had slipped away, Miles tried one more time to reach out for her, letting out a sigh of breath when she didn't recoil. Pulling her into his chest, he wrapped his arms around her and lovingly stroked her hair, resting his cheek against her temple. After seconds passed she responded and burrowed herself further into his warm embrace.

He pulled back, enough to look at her teary eyes, brushing away the tears that had fallen, "I'm so sorry that I failed you both as a father and as your king."

Adamantly shaking her head, she tried to smile, but it turned out as grimace, "you didn't fail me as either, this isn't your fault. You're right, we have to do what is best for the kingdom and the people. You always tell me that we all have a role to play, and while I am grief stricken, I understand. It makes sense—"

"But it doesn't make it any less painful," he finished her sentence as she nodded in agreement. Falling into his embrace once more, she held the tears at bay as she looked to see Danny was doing the same. Rachel on the other hand remained with a blank expression; Lord Aaron had more of an emotional range than she did.

"When do I have to leave?"

Her small, mumbled voice broke his heart into more pieces than he thought possible, "in two days time. He wanted you to come tomorrow night, but I advised him that the journey would take quite some time, and I didn't feel safe with you traveling at night."

Mutely nodding, she pulled back once again, "Alright."

Turning to exit the Great Hall, she pivoted around once more, "I don't think I feel up to eating tonight, I'm going to retire to my chambers for the evening."

Miles nodded, not trusting his own voice to say anything as he watched her slowly leave.

Putting his head in his hands once again he was met with the constant nagging of Rachel's voice in his ear, "you pinned all of that on me as if it were me only making the choice. This is just as hard on me you know. You're the king, it's high time you—"

Slamming his fist on the table, Miles glared at her, "I told her the truth, if you are feeling guilty, it's only because there's something to feel guilty for. You're right about one thing, I am the king, and I'm commanding you to either be silent or leave…now."

With a firm tone, he left no room for further argument, directing his gaze at something other than her sullen face. It was a bit harsh, but he just wanted to silence her for a bit anyway.

Charlie made her request known to Nora that she was retiring for the night and dismissed her ladies as well, claiming that she wanted to be alone, which was the truth.

Part of the truth anyway. She was also hoping that after a few hours of feigning sleep, she would be able to sneak away from the castle and head into the village for one more night before she was sent away.

The light that once filled her room was slowly fading away until she was only left in darkness, the only light now coming from the glow of the crescent moon in the sky.

As much as she loved the sunbeam and how it felt against her skin, she had always been more of a night owl. She loved to see the glowing stars and the radiance of the moon was magical and breathtaking.

Nighttime was also when she could shed her princess image and become, whoever it is she wanted to be, of course that was only on the nights she escaped into town. Even in town though, she was never truly as alone as she wanted to be.

Getting rid of the death trap she was forced into, she threw on her training garments, tucking her hair back into the hood of her cape, wiping away all existence of her identity as both royalty, and as a female.

The ever constant growing trellises on the wall outside her window made for a perfect escape from the confines of her chambers without being seen. She had perfected the art of climbing both up and down until now she could do it with her eyes closed. This was obviously not the first time she left the castle unaccompanied, but it would no doubt be the last time.

Landing softly on the ground, she pressed herself up against the stonewall, crouching down as she went around the backside of the castle where the forest was spread out for her beck and call.

The forest offered a canopy, shielding her, and a darkness that engulfed her, both ensuring that she wouldn't be seen.

The first time she trekked through the forest she had been a bit afraid, the forest itself may have been a bit spooky, but the real danger lied in climbing down the rocky terrain without falling to your death.

Built on higher ground, the only safe exit to leave the castle was through the fixed bridge, and down the constructed path. Every other means of escaping was hazardous, but that's what motivated her to continue on until she came to the exit, opening the town up before her. One didn't have to fear the danger always lurking around the corner, what one had to be fearful of was not becoming the monster themselves. There was never a time Charlie worried about what was in the forest, truthfully, she was always worried about becoming the forest; dark, enclosed, a shadow that invoked fear from people instead of awe and excitement.

Usually opting for a more direct path, she instead choose a scenic route, taking in the smell of the trees, the sounds of the forest wildlife scurrying about their business, for what she perceived to be the last time. Careful to enjoy the scenery, she also had to remember her footing and impelled herself down the steep mountain, huffing when she got to the end. Some paths were steeper than others, and of course the trail that offered more beautiful views was one, she would definitely take a different way back up.

Dumping her out at the bottom end of town, Charlie could see the glow of candles perched in windowsills, as she got closer.

There were other, more plentiful cities she could've escaped to, but it was more likely that she would be spotted and recognized in flourishing cities. Towns and villages were smaller, homier, and while people were very suspicious of newcomers, they also revealed in having new people in their town.

By passing all of the merchant shops and marketplaces, where she had often heard about bartering and exchanging occurring, she continued her course to the same place she went every time she visited. A place where, upon the first time, no one had questioned her about who she was, or why she was here.

That was the place she would get the change of a lifetime, an even bigger change than being married off to an unknown man in an unknown kingdom.

Sitting in the far right corner on a wooden bench, it took no time for the same man to approach her as he did every night she showed up there, "starting to think you had deserted us."

He laughed, but Charlie didn't answer, her voice would've given her away and he was used to the silence from her.

Back to business, he cleared his throat, "there's a man, Merek, who has been going around, intimidating local shopkeeps and pillaging towns. My cousin down in Derbyshire just informed me that he was leaving their town and headed for this one next."

At that, Charlie's ears perked up. Sitting straight on the bench, the man could see her interest as he howled laughter, "that got your attention. Right, he left a fortnight ago, by my calculations, that should place him in town tonight at the latest. He's said to stand six feet in height, and is distinguishable by his long amber colored mane, matching the growing hair on his face. Word around town is that he's planned to plunder Brom's Tavern—"

Immediately standing up, she turned her back on him, eyes seeking out the exit before he grabbed her elbow, not try to force her to turn around, but simply to place a payment in her hands.

As always she shook her head and tossed it back on the table, but that didn't stop him from trying, just as he did every time. Sighing he picked it back up and put it in his pocket, "may we meet again…Midnight Assassin."

The same closing she heard him utter every time, somehow weighed heavy on her heart tonight, due to the fact that it was unlikely they would meet again, ever.

Still she pushed that aside and left. Paying no attention to the looks and gazes she received from people, she glided by, cape flowing about in the night's breeze as she progressed to Brom's Tavern.

She knew the town fairly well by now, and everyone knew Brom's Tavern. It was a very well kept tavern, filled with laughter and merriment at all hours of the day, tonight however, there was no joy to be heard nor seen. Charlie was sure word about Merek's visit was the reason.

Charlie took the narrow cobblestone alleyway, leading to the back of the tavern, fleeting quickly in order to avoid being spotted. The back was the only logical way for him to enter, Charlie thought as she flattened herself against the stone. She would give it less than an hour, and if all was quiet, she would return back to the castle.

The sound of boots clabbering against the cobblestone awoken Charlie's senses, as she moved to shield herself further into the shadows of the night. Before her stood a man she had never seen before, which based on the man's description, had to be Merek.

Quietly pulling out the sword tucked at her side, she watched his every movement, getting a feel for her opponent just like Nora always advised if there was time to do so.

Once she had addressed him, and he began advancing towards the door of the tavern, she stepped out of the shadows, the moonlight highlighting the olive green of her cape.

When he didn't immediately notice her, she took advantage of his lack of awareness, as she ambushed him. Catching him by surprise, his foot got caught on the cobblestone as he landed with a thud, drawing his sword over his head in defense.

He was quite a large man when compared to Charlie's petite frame, so he was easily able to shove her off and regain his footing, forgetting the tavern for a moment as he circled her. She was little, but she never let that be her weakness, instead she used it to evade his every advancement.

His sloppy form got the best of him in the end, allowing Charlie the opportunity to swing her sword forcefully, cutting his arm and making him drop his own weapon. Clattering to the ground, she kicked it away, never taking her eyes off of him as he pleaded on his knees for his life, "please, have mercy on me. I was just stealing for my family. We haven't gotten any food left, and we have a young child on the way. My wife is withering away."

She would've felt sympathy and pity for this man's struggles had she not been warned about his ability to spin a lie faster than a spider could spin a web.

Instead she feigned sympathy, lowering her weapon an inch until the passion and anger returned to his eyes and he stood up, intending to charge at her. She anticipated his attack and met him halfway, plunging the sword into his chest, as the blood rushed to his mouth evoking a gurgling sound from him.

Shoving his body from her sword, she wiped the blood on his garments, leaning down to whisper, "mercy comes to those who deserve it."

Hearing the door of the back exit opening, she fled, faster than she had ever fled before, not stopping until she was safe in the comfort of her forest. Even then the adrenaline pumping through her veins propelled her forward, as her legs almost gave out in exhaustion.

There was no real reason as to why she was running. She was almost positive that she would be considered a hero and revered for the deed, but that would also mean them learning her secret identity and she couldn't risk that. Especially not now.

She tucked the clean sword back at her side, making sure the coast was clear before she climbed back up the overgrown vine trellises, slipping back into her room as though nothing had changed, and seemingly it hadn't.

The room was exactly as she left it, the only thing that changed was her, and she had come back a different person.

This wasn't something she intended to do, and it definitely wasn't something she intended to do more than once, but fate had other plans.

She had come to the same town for a few nights in a row when she could get away easier, each time returning to the same tavern. One night when merriment got too out of hand, a brawl broke out within the tavern and exploded into the street. Charlie kept quiet as it erupted, fearing for her life at the time, but after she saw the person was nothing more than a lousy drunk she was no longer afraid but enraged.

She followed to where the scuffle continued in front of the abbey near the edge of town and intervened on behalf of the victim, beating the guy to a pulp. A couple of days later she was approached by a man claiming he saw what she did, how she stepped in and handled the debacle, and wanted to know if she was interested in interceding more often when she was in town. The enforcer of the town was not up to par for the people's standards so things had been slowly escalating in town to the point where they had no hope. They were desperate. So desperate that the man was begging Charlie, a woman, to help, although he had no knowledge that she was a woman. He only knew that she was very odd and never spoke nor showed her face.

Mercenary and assassin left a bitter taste in her mouth, and if asked she would never own up to either title, but essentially that's what she was. A vigilant that never accepted any of the offered money, but was always happy to assist a town in eliminating scum.

Placing the sword back under her bed, she slipped off the garments, donning her nightwear as she slipped into her bed and easily fell into a deep slumber, regardless of the impending doom that was upon her.


	4. Chapter 4

Two days time passed quicker than Charlie would've hoped for, not particularly thrilled with the journey weighing heavily on her mind. She tried to focus on her lessons, but even Nora could tell that she was worried, though she'd never admit it.

She hadn't been away from the castle ever, and to add to that anxiety, she was being placed under the watchful eye of a man she had never met, only to be married off to his son…whom she had also never met. That sort of marriage arrangement wasn't out of the ordinarily, but she never expected it to include her. As the King's daughter she assumed she would have a little more say in the matter, and because she's Charlie.

Nevertheless when doomsday arrived, she opened her eyes only to see that atrocious dress had mysteriously made its way back into her room, mocking her.

"Good, you're awake, I feared I was going to have to employ drastic measures to awaken you from your slumber. I know how you enjoy your sleep," she heard Nora's teasing voice from the doorway as her mother stood awkwardly at her side.

Stretching her arms over her head, Charlie let out a yawn, covering her mouth and tossing aside the blankets.

"I just wanted to see for myself you were up, Priscilla will be in to assist you in getting ready. Your father expects you to leave before noon in order to arrive by nightfall," her mother's terse voice broke through the silence as she curtly nodded towards Nora and took her leave.

Nora paid her no attention as she came further into the room, as upset as Charlie was about this; Nora looked even more grief stricken. Charlie was her constant companion and her only confidant within the castle. The other knights were less inviting because she was a woman, and mostly because they knew she was better than them.

Charlie gave her a warm smile and punched her arm, jarring her from her dreary thoughts, "cheer up, you should be ecstatic, you'll get to pawn me off on some other poor fool for awhile. I promise I'll give them just as much hell as I do you."

When Nora's mouth only twitched up slightly at the corners in a smile Charlie impulsively threw her arms around her, "I would ask you to come, but I know your place is here. I could never ask you to trade sides and start at a lower rank when you've earned your spot here."

Nora sighed and conceded to the hug, "don't worry about me princess," she pulled back and her mouth broke out in a full grin, "you know how good I am at making friends."

Laughter erupted from Charlie's lips, "all the more reason I worry about you."

After a few more moments of laughter passing between the two of them, Nora took her leave, pausing once more at the door to smile.

Charlie had no time to be sad because as soon as she left Priscilla entered with a less than cheerful smile on her face, "good morning your highness, I apologize, but I was told to bring the gown back. I know how much you detested the color."

Charlie grimaced, "I assumed mother wanted a trial run yesterday to see how I looked in it, after all I couldn't go looking unpresentable, how would that look on her?"

Rolling her eyes, Charlie smiled when she saw Priscilla muffle laughter until she took in Charlie's appearance, "oh heavens, you're covered in dirt, how ever did that happen?"

Realization flashed across Charlie's face as she reflected on her mother's words. She was supposed to refrain from engaging in any sort of physical activity, which included her training with Nora. In Charlie's defense though she had been on the same routine for years, it was hard enough to get that down pat only for her mother to just change it.

Priscilla came closer to her, examining her appearance, "well you should be alright, I'll get a cloth to clean the visible parts and make sure you're presentable."

With a sigh of relief Charlie relaxed, at least she could count on Priscilla, "thank you Priscilla, I apologize, it must've slipped my mind."

Nodding, she smiled, "I understand your highness, you've had quite a lot on your mind, just wait right here."

Priscilla left and appeared with a cloth and a pan full of water, "I'm sorry your highness but we mustn't waste time waiting for the water to get hot."

Charlie was about to ask what she meant when she felt the sting of icy cold water on her skin as she quietly yelped, that's what she got for not listening.

After the fourth 'I'm sorry' she heard Priscilla mutter it was all over and she looked as good as new.

Pulling at the insufferable fabric, she parted from Priscilla, giving her a smile of reassurance as she made her way to the Great Hall where she knew everyone was waiting on her.

Her father's face looked grim, just as her brother's did. She could see that they were both visibly upset at her departure. Her mother was always more difficult to read, not because she lacked feelings, but because she never let them show.

Slowly dragging her feet she stood face to face with her mother, "please do your best to behave as a Princess and not as you do here."

That was as close to a goodbye as she was going to get from her mother.

She moved on to her brother next and welcomed him into her arms as he wrapped his arms around her tight, "I'll miss you dear sister. With you gone there will be no one for mother to focus her attention on, I'll be her next project," Danny's chuckle caused Charlie to smile and laugh lightly as she pulled away, ruffling his hair.

With great reluctance, she moved on to Miles, her father. She stood there for a few moments, not sure what to say or do, he wasn't much of a hugger, but suddenly he pulled her into his arms, dropping a kiss to the crown of her head as he ran his hand over her head.

She wasn't sure he was going to speak until she heard him so softly, "Bass will take care of you, I would trust him with my life. Despite all we have been through, we've been brothers our whole lives."

Pulling her back so he could look in her eyes he continued with more volume, "he has a nasty temper at times, and things are ran differently there. I'd say do as you're told, but it would just go in one ear and out the other," he smiled, "don't push him Charlie. I trust him, but I also know what he is capable of and I would hate to have to kill him. We will be there shortly after you're settled to see how you're getting on, and do send us a letter once you have time. I'll miss you, kid."

The air left her lungs as she listened, but as soon as she heard that her vision clouded with unshed tears. She nodded and didn't let one drop as she hugged him once more and turned, not looking back as she exited.

Charlie opted for riding on horseback because the unstable conditions of the worn down roads made riding in a carriage a more difficult journey, but her mother instantly refuted her request. There was absolutely no way that Charlie could make a positive impression traveling on horseback, even though Rachel despised Sebastian, she knew that Charlie represented their family.

As she hit every bump and rock in the rock, jarring her and numbing her butt, Charlie wished she would've thrown a fit and she very well would have had she known just how grueling this would be. It was no wonder most people chose to ride in a saddle, that had to be more comfortable than a stiff, wooden bench, although they did stop in cities along the way, whom her father had allies in, to rest and sleep overnight.

Though people had mixed feelings about the King and his family, she was always welcomed with open arms and treated with the utmost respect at every turn.

The walls of Malgrave shot defiantly upwards to stand 207 feet, just a mere six feet shorter than Longstead, but where it lacked height, it made up for in defense. Surrounding the castle from the outside world was a barbican made of sturdy wood.

The moat, recently added as per King Sebastian's request, could be found in the space between the barbican and the outer bailey. Excavated around the castle when the war broke out and stretching 13 feet in width and over 30 feet in depth, the moat was added in order to thwart the enemy in his attempt to siege towers and battering rams.

Built of the same stone that made up the rest of the castle, the key feature of the outer bailey was the massive drawbridge, releasing, at a painstakingly slow pace, to allow Charlie's passage. She had never seen a drawbridge before because her father didn't believe in closing them in or closing off the people. Whereas things seemed to flow at Longstead, here she could already tell there was more structure, order.

Standing slightly taller than the outer bailey was the second layer of defense, the inner bailey, home to the castle cistern, chapel, kitchen, gatehouse and the living quarters of the lord and his family.

Once more a fixed bridge appeared below the wheels of the wagon, opening the castle right before her eyes. Having never ridden up on a castle, she ducked down in order to get a better view.

Impressively as Longstead stood, Malgrave castle was nothing but marvelous as well, the only difference lied in where Longstead looked inviting, Malgrave resembled a fortress. It kind of reminded her of the forest around her home; dark, edgy, mysterious, but unlike the forest, she had no idea what kind of power it housed within its walls.

Caught up in marveling the exterior of the place, Charlie jumped when the door was opened and an arm extended to accompany her towards the castle.

She promised herself she would not look back, but curiosity always got the better of her. Turning her head to glance over her shoulder, she watched as the carriage faded away, returning to her home, the home she wasn't sure she would ever see again.

Sniffling back any tears that threatened to escape, she held her head high as she allowed one of King Sebastian's guards escort her, trying not to compare how stiff and rigid he was compared to the many guards Charlie had encountered at her own castle.

Everything about this castle was different, except the draft, both were just as cold, she thought as she shuddered. Noticing her chill upon entering the Great Hall, the guard next to her motioned to someone and within minutes a warm, fur lined cape was draped over her shoulders as she meekly mumbled a 'thank you,' still refusing to make eye contact.

It wasn't as though she were acting in a childish manner, but if she could feel the rigidity rolling off his body beside her; she couldn't imagine how fierce his eyes would look.

As soon as he stepped aside, she let her arm drop awkwardly to her side as she brought her hands to rub up and down her arms. She was used to the cold, but there was an unusual chill in the air that sent a wave of goosebumps across her skin, no doubt having to do with the King who entered nosily from behind her.

Connor stood at his side, eyes widening as he took in her beauty, though mostly covered up, "she's beautiful," he whispered to his father.

Bass didn't say anything, but his agreement was evident by the look in his eyes. He hadn't seen Charlotte as a baby, but he couldn't imagine coming from that family that she would be anything but pretty. He was however, unprepared for the amount of beauty she possessed, more beautiful than any woman he had ever seen and beautiful enough to dethrone Helen of Troy herself.

When she turned amount, Bass' breath left his body, Charlotte wasn't as innocent and young looking as he expected her to be. She held herself with a dignity, very much like Miles, but with a stone cold, deadly look, courtesy of Rachel.

For a minute he forgot all about his son, the one she was promised to, as his stride grew wider until he was close enough to her to hear her erratic heartbeat.

"Hello Charlotte," taking her hand in his, he placed a light feather kiss upon the backside, "it's nice to finally meet you."


	5. Chapter 5

Charlie said nothing, momentarily mesmerized by the honey sound filling the room around her, and the cerulean blue eyes of the man standing before her.

A cough diverted his attention elsewhere, looking as though he just remembered Connor's presence, "allow me to introduce my son, Prince Connor."

Mimicking his father's actions, Charlie couldn't help but blush, even though his lips on her hand didn't loiter like the ones prior, "pleasure to meet you Princess Charlotte."

His voice was a lot coarser than the Kings, but his face was much softer looking. Connor resembled Miles more than he did Sebastian. Standing at the height of 5'7, his tousled dark hair offered a striking contrast to Sebastian's dark blonde, unruly locks sticking out of the crown on top of his head. Whereas Sebastian looked as though he meant business, even when smiling, Connor's face gave a more playful air, not doubt attributed to his youth.

"Call me Charlie," she blurted out of instinct as she bowed slightly before them. It was customary to bow before the presence of royalty in other kingdoms, even if you held the same rank.

Smirking, Connor prowled towards her, "well…Charlie, we're glad to welcome you into our home. If you'd like, I'd be more than happy to take you around the castle and the grounds."

While the offer seemed authentic, his tone and body language made Charlie think he had other intentions.

She opened her mouth to politely decline, but Sebastian beat her to it, "son I'm sure Charlotte had a long journey and would like to retire to bed. Isn't that right?"

He looked to her with such intensity that all she could do was nod her head. She had no idea what was the matter. She was never this quiet nor this subservient.

"Your clothing and personal belongings have already been taken to your room," he motioned to the man that had escorted Charlie in, "I'll have my personal guard, Knight Jeremy Baker show you to your quarters."

The so titled Jeremy Baker nodded in acknowledgement, bowing before the King as he spun on his heels and began walking. He said nothing to Charlie, but she took that as her indication to follow, and so she did, in silence because he seemed to prefer it that way.

As they rounded staircases and vast, long hallways, she pondered where the Queen was. It was unusual for a King to greet guests without the presence of his Queen, so either King Sebastian didn't have one, or he didn't feel the need to present her to Charlie. Either way it was very odd. Charlie made a mental note to get to the bottom of it.

Silently, she was brought to her room, and with a grunt and a bow, Jeremy left her…alone.

She hadn't felt the sting of being alone until now, hitting her with a catapulting force. That's when the tears started rolling down her face as she sat on the edge of the bed, drawing her knees up to her chest.

A loud knock brought her to the present as her eyes flickered towards the door. Silently hoping the person would go away, she cast aside all hopes and opened the door, revealing Jeremy, "here, these are for you your highness."

In his hands there were candles and extra blankets, graciously she took them, only meeting his gaze for a second.

Intending to flee, she turned around when she felt his hand on her arm, "is everything alright your highness?"

She nodded, trying to muster up a smile, "of course, everything is quite alright."

Not seeming convinced, his brow furrowed, "you needn't fear, King Sebastian is a fair man and will make sure that your life here is up to the same standards as before."

"A fair man…but is he a nice man?"

The question threw Jeremy for a loop as his eyes narrowed in confusion, "I'm not too sure, milady, that any King can be described as a 'nice man.'"

Charlie shook her head, "that's not true, my father, he's a good man and a King. But thank you sir, you've answered my question and tomorrow I'll be right as rain."

Jeremy said nothing as he stepped outside and she closed the door softly behind him, not knowing exactly what answer he had given her on accident. He didn't fear King Sebastian like the others because they were friends before, and he had been nothing but loyal to him.

Laying the blankets down on the end of the bed, Charlie sat the candle down in the windowsill, peering out into unforeseen terrority before her. They were miles and miles away from Longstead. So far that she could barely make out the top of the keep. Nostalgia ate away at her like a plague until she turned away.

Leaving the window behind, she resolved to sleep and pray that tomorrow would bring about new feelings.


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning, once she had calmed down from the fright she woke up in, a result of the foreignness surrounding her, she opened the door to her chamber quietly, surprised to see that there were no guards outside of her room.

She missed Nora, the constant, not always cheery face she was used to seeing every morning upon waking.

Sighing, she turned back around and shut her door, sound carrying through empty hallways.

Going back to the window, she watched as the sun struggled to rise up above the clouds hanging over the castle. Being elevated on a hill meant that she was always able to see the sun, if it were out, but here it was a little different. Not even the sun was there to keep her company.

She drew her gaze from the window as she waited impatiently for the door to open after hearing the bang.

"Yes?" She squeaked out remembering that these people were not Nora, they weren't used to her.

"I beg your pardon your highness, but I was sent to help you dress and show you to breakfast," the lady, who stood a good two inches shorter than Charlie with shoulder length bright blonde hair, kept her head bowed the entire time. When her head wasn't bowed, her eyes were cast down.

Just then Charlie's stomach rumbled at the thought of breakfast, "very well, do come in, and call me Charlie."

"Yes your highness," was the immediate response she got, telling her that the women didn't hear a thing she said other than the command.

After minutes passed by slowly, Charlie gave up trying to make conversation with the woman who seemed too skittish; she could barely help Charlie to braid her hair with her shaking hands.

Every time the woman happened to glance up at her, merely by pure accident, Charlie smiled to her in assurance, hoping that a friendly face would make her less nervous. That seemed to help by the time she was dressed and following behind her towards the Great Hall.

With no intentions of getting lost, Charlie tried to develop a map inside her head so that she would know how to get back on her own, but after the third loop she gave up and just followed.

The woman, who along the way said her name was Maggie, left her at the entrance of the Great Hall, where King Sebastian and Prince Connor were already seated.

Both men smiled at her, but she could feel Sebastian's lingering gaze on her the entire way until she sat down.

"I trust you slept well Charlotte?" Just when she thought they weren't going to speak to her, she was shocked at the abrupt redirection of his previous conversation.

Dropping the fork, it clattered across the metal of the plate, she looked up at Sebastian and nodded, "yes I did, thank you."

"And are you well rested?" It sounded like innocent enough questions, but for some reason he just put her on edge and made her second-guess her response.

Once again she nodded, "yes sir, I feel quite better now that I have rested."

He nodded in contentment, "good, I'm very glad. I would hate to know your first night was unpleasant, especially since you are here alone."

It dawned on her then that Jeremy must've let it slip that she had been crying. That had to be the reason he was asking so many questions about her wellbeing, why else would he care? He didn't even know her.

Connor interrupted any further conversation to be had, "I thought that if you're well rested I could show you around today, if you'd like?"

All of the smugness seen before vanished overnight, replaced by a genuine smile on his face. He seemed to be trying, she could at least try to meet him halfway, "I would like that very much, I enjoy the outdoors," she went back to picking at her food.

Connor's face broke out into a full grin as Bass smiled lightly, "wonderful, I will have Jeremy and Tristan escort you both. I have some business to attend to, but I will send for you both later today."

With that Bass exited and Charlie watched as he walked, confidence exuding with every step he took.

She didn't know how long she had been gazing at him until Connor tried to get her attention, "I apologize…sometimes I get stuck in my own head."

Connor just laughed, not fazed by her aloofness, "that's quite alright your highness, would you like to go now or are you finished with breakfast?"

She nodded, dropping the cloth napkin on the table and standing up form the chair, "yes I'm finished, thank you, but please call me Charlie. No one calls me Charlotte, well, maybe my mother when she's cross with me."

"That would be all the time I'm assuming?"

At that Charlie couldn't help but laugh as she followed him, "and where would you get such an idea from?"

He shrugged his shoulders, "call it intuition."

With that, Charlie smiled as she followed her out of the Great Hall and around the castle. It was every bit as large and as grand as Longstead but whereas it was safe and welcoming this one had a dangerous appeal to it. The crenellated walls shot up from the ground as though the castle acted more as fortress than a home. Shadows swallowed up most of the castle, but in the parts where the sun kissed it, the shimmer of the stone reflected along the walls and twinkled. It reminded Charlie of a sword; dangerous and needed to be handled with caution, but also was a beautiful instrument that could catch a ray of sunlight and reflect it back, illuminating all around it.

The interior, decorated in dark scarlets and purples, had some of the same features as Longstead, in particular murals. She was used to seeing a lot of paintings of battles and war throughout Longstead, despite her mother's constant protests. Here in Malgrave was no different, in fact, the same mural along the bottom wall in the Great Hall at Longstead lined that same wall in the Great Hall at Malgrave. What battle it was, Charlie had no clue, they all looked the same after awhile. One thing she was starting to like about Malgrave was the amount of winding staircases, seemingly at every corner she turned, and the amount of hidden alcoves the castle had to offer. The training grounds were also very impressive, just like those at Longstead except at all hours of the day knights could be hear practicing as though war was always on the horizon.

It wasn't as bad as she thought it was going to be. Malgrave was still not the same as home, but it brought an air of excitement, maybe even a little bit of danger.

Connor too was much different than when she first arrived. He was easy to talk to, sort of like Danny, but she wasn't supposed to be thinking of them in the same terms. This was the man she was going to marry and the only feelings she could rally for him were that of friends. There was something off about him at times, Charlie could feel uneasiness coursing in her bones, but she shrugged off those feelings, attributing them to unfamiliarity.

Coming full circle, they passed by the throne room where Jeremy said King Sebastian was hearing grievances from nearby villages.

Charlie never had much of an interest in politics, but it was good to observe a king in his natural element. One could tell a lot about a person by how they ruled over their people. She had witnessed her father conduct many of these meetings and was always proud of the decisions he made and the manner in which he held himself.

Connor could see the spark in her eyes as he walked on and she stood looking at the door, "would you like to go in and listen?"

She hesitated before answering, "only if it wouldn't cause a disturbance and be a bother?"

"Nonsense, my father always encourages me to listen in, I just personally never feel the need to sit for hours listening to people gripe and complain."

Brushing off that comment, she followed after him when the doors opened before them and Connor headed towards the front, nodding his head at the bowing people as he passed.

There were three chairs, a spot occupied by King Sebastian, one that Connor made himself at home in, and another beside of Connor, no doubt intended for Charlie's use.

Hesitantly she sat rigidly down on the throne, placing her hands awkwardly in her lap as she watched Sebastian out of the corner of her eye, consulting with another man in hushed tones.

At first glance, upon her late arrival in the night, she hadn't given much thought to his appearance. Not even at breakfast did she observe him thoroughly. But looking at him now as he sat poised and collected upon his throne as though born a king, she had to admit that he very much embodied what it meant to be a king.

While he was wearing less than formal attire, he still looked regal. The white tunic hung loosely off his body and remained untied, exposing part of his chest. Charlie couldn't help but allow her eyes to travel down his body. Covering that was a deep scarlet cloak, open at the chest and draping to the floor, lined with ermine fur. Fastening the ebony colored breeches to his hips was a massive belt, mostly composed of gold and other precious jewels. The purple cap upon his head did little to tame his unmanageable curls, poking out around the base of the cap.

Averting her eyes when he caught her staring, she looked straight ahead as though nothing happened while the next person. To Charlie's surprise a young boy was shoved forward, by the collar of his blouse, at the hand of a cantankerous older man.

"What are the charges being brought forth against the boy?"

The man gruffly spat out, "I caught 'em stealing bread."

"Is that true?" Sebastian directed the question at the boy who was so scared all he could do was solemnly nod his head as his lip quivered.

Sighing, Sebastian pinched the bridge of his nose, "you know the punishment for stealing."

He turned to the executioner who was chomping at the bit to slice the boy's hand off, "make it fast," then again he directed his words towards the boy, "maybe next time you'll think twice about stealing."

Trying to wrestle away from the old man, the boy cried out as a flood of tears released from his eyes. Charlie couldn't believe what she was about to see. She was so shocked that she couldn't say anything, praying that it was a scare tactic, until she saw the blade go up in the air.

The executioner, with the help of the other guards already had the boy's hand flattened against a wooden bench. Without thinking about it, she leapt from her seat, dodging the hands of Jeremy as she ran to the boy.

There was no time to rationally think about what she was doing, so she did the only thing she could think of, and that was to forcefully shove the man out of the way and grab the boy, in the process, the blade came swiftly down and made contact with her arm drawing blood immediately.

Charlie didn't notice, all she could focus on was the boy's safety until she heard King Sebastian's voice bellowing out, "what do you think you're doing Charlotte? You have no right to intervene on behalf of the boy. He committed a crime and the law states he must pay for that crime."

"As you said, he's a boy, did you ask him why he stole the bread? Maybe he was starving, or his family was starving."

Striding towards her, he remained calm, "that may be so, but that does not warrant stealing."

Pushing the boy behind her, she appeared to not be backing down, "fine then I'll pay for the bread," she turned to the old man who was astounded, "how much do I owe you sir?"

The man went to open his mouth but Bass' terse voice cut him off, "that's not how this works, the payment is in the form of a hand so unless you're offering that, step aside Charlotte."

Not missing a beat she responded, "alright then I'll pay that price."

Forgetting the boy she stepped forward on her own accord and placed her right hand, still bleeding, on the wooden bench. She was not testing him in the least bit; she was honestly ready to give up her own hand for the boy.

Even though Bass was rather amazed by her display, he was also infuriated that she was undermining his rule. That may have worked with Miles, but that not here, not with Bass.

Grabbing her arm roughly, he yanked her up, his control snapping, "Enough. You are in my kingdom, I am the King, and I will not have you set the tone. I have made a decision, and it will be carried out. Either take your place at up there," he pointed to where she was previously sitting, "or Jeremy can escort you to the dungeon for your foolish act of bravery."

She sneered as she jerked her away out of his grip, "I won't sit here and watch this."

Gritting his teeth and locking his jaw, his head snapped to meet Jeremy's, "take her to the dungeon until the rest of the day and I am done here."


	7. Chapter 7

He turned his back on her, climbing the stairs as he sat back down on his throne, not sparing a glance at her gaping face.

This was not the outcome she expected, but she meant what she said, she would not sit quietly and watch this barbaric scene.

Heart pounding out of her chest, she didn't hear a word that Jeremy was saying on her long, excruciating walk 30 feet below the main castle floor to the dungeon, extending across a number of different rooms.

Mutely, she still said nothing as he opened the iron door, enclosing her in the dank, bitter room.

Trembling, her knees buckled as soon as she stood in the middle of the room. Dropping down to the cold ground, she didn't dare look around to see what mysteries lied deep within. She had never even laid eyes on the dungeon of her own castle, assuming there was one, but she heard enough ghost stories to know the horrors that took place here. The torture and blood that was spilled in dungeons not unlike the one she was trapped in now.

If the torture weren't the cause of death, being confined to a suffocating place like this would've surely killed even the happiest of men. The stone walls squashed any screams threatening to spill out of a victim's mouth as the iron bars on the doors sucked the life from their very soul, killing them slowly. A most painful way to die, and one that Charlie did not want to experience any time soon, or anytime for that matter.

Placing her hand over her bleeding forearm, she inhaled deep, calming breaths as she suppressed the sobs wracking her body.

Time did not exist her as she waited for her captive to release her from this punishment or kill her one, either would have been acceptable. There was no telling how long she stayed bent in a prayer position with her arms in her lap, cradling the now dried wound.

Eventually though she heard the sound of the iron door, creaking open as the sound ricocheted throughout the entire room.

"Let me see your arm."

That's it. She waited hours in silence and solitude and the first voice she heard was his curt command. What had she done to make the heavens curse her so?

Not bothering to answer him or listen, she sat still with her hands glued to her lap until he pried them apart and brought her injured arm closer to him.

She was about to wrench her arm away and demand he leave but as soon as she opened her mouth she let out a whimper, feeling the sting of cleansing alcohol on her cut.

"Next time, don't be a martyr."

Snapping her eyes up, a fire burned brightly in her eyes, "since when do you care about my safety? You're the one who ordered the guards to throw me in this godforsaken place. How about next time you have some compassion."

His hand clamped down tighter as he got more frustrated, "one: I did not ask them to throw you, I told them to escort you. If anyone laid a hand on you and physically threw you in here tell me now so that I can take care of them personally. Two: compassion makes for a weak king. There are rules in place that have to be followed, and someone has to make the tough decisions. And three," he loosened his grip, placing two fingers under her chin to look at her directly in the eyes, "I've always cared about your safety Charlotte."

Locking eyes with her, he snapped out of the trance going back to the task as she scrunched her face up in pain, "maybe you should care more about your own safety and not throw yourself in from of sharp objects."

She looked up to offer him a piece of her mind when he pulled the cloth tighter around her arm and tied it in a knot. He wasn't looking at her, instead he was bent on one knee and paying special attention to her cut, running his fingers along the length of the cloth as he hummed, the melodic sound lulling Charlie into a sleep.

Her head lolled back, sending a panic through Bass' body as he shook her petite body, "Charlotte? Charlie…dammit Charlie."

Huffing, he cradled the back of her head with one arm as he swooped down and placed his other arm under the bend of her knees, picking her up. Jeremy went to take her from Bass, but he just shook his head, "I've got her. Next time pay a bit more attention to the princess and ensure that she isn't suffering from blood loss. I'd rather her no die before my son has the chance to marry her."

Truthfully he didn't give a damn about his son at the moment, he'd rather she didn't die at all. He was less than pleased with Jeremy, who could tell, but he was angrier with himself as he carried a woozy Charlie to discard her onto her bed.

Brushing back some locks of hair that had fallen in front of her face, his fingers lingered on her face. She possessed such a level of bravery that some of his own knights didn't possess. A sort of bravery mixed with stupidity and carelessness he had seen before, only in a less feminine version: Miles. It was in that moment Bass could see the qualities Charlie inherited from Miles. Always the first to run into battle with a bleeding heart and sympathy for everyone, which always ended with him getting hurt.

Averting his eyes back to Jeremy, a stern look passed over his face as he walked by him, "alert me as soon as she has awoken."

Jeremy nodded as Bass retired to his room. He wanted to bring Charlie to his quarters so that he may keep a better eye on her, but judging by the look of disgust she gave him before he had her sent to the dungeon, he doubted that choice would work in his favor. He didn't want to be that evil, malicious, and cruel ruler everyone dubbed him as, but there were times when he knew he had to remain firm in his decision. There had to be holes in a ship to allow it to take on water, similarly, he had to have a weakness in order to be defeated and he was not going to let his subjects find out that Achilles' heel.

Jolting out of bed, Bass' heart thumped loudly against his chest when Jeremy came knocking in the dead of night, granted Bass had directed him to do as much.

"Thank you Jeremy," peeling the heavy layers of blanket off him, he shoved on the wool socks laid out on the ground by his feet and continued on his path towards Charlie's room.

Relieved, he found her sitting up against the headboard of the bed, "would you like something to eat Charlotte? You lost a chunk of blood, I imagine that eating would make you feel better."

With her arms firmly crossed over her chest, all she did was stare blankly at him, refusing to answer his question. Instead she went a different route, "what happened to the boy? Did you chop his hand off?"

Not fazed by her at all, he addressed Jeremy, telling him to send food up to her room, enough to suffice until morning.

"I asked you a question," she all but shouted after he closed the door on Jeremy.

Rubbing at his temples trying to ease the already forming headache of being in a room with her for more than two minutes, he sighed, "please lower your voice Charlotte, it's the middle of the night."

"I don't care, I demand an answer," she stubbornly replied.

Bass was doing all he could to remain in control and not let his temper get the best of him, "I am your King and you would do well to remember that. Your demands mean nothing to me."

"Or what? You're going to throw me in the dungeon again if I speak out of line? Some king you are. My father would never—"

Cutting her off, his temper flared, "you have no idea what your father is capable of or the things he has done. He and I are cut from the same fabric."

Bass' cold, cruel tone always reared its ugly head whenever anyone talked about how good of a king Miles was, as though his previous years allotted for nothing. The guilt and blame, always laid at Bass' feet, was something he accepted for awhile until he realized Miles' hands were just as bloody as his.

She reeled in the shock from his statement and chose to ignore the jab at her father, knowing he wanted to get a rise out of her. It was all lies he was saying, her father could be tough, but never cruel. Never a killer like him.

"Where's the Queen?"

She blurted out the inquiry so suddenly that she didn't have time to think about it before she said it. The accusatory tone was not lost on Bass who, for a moment, was stunned by what she was insinuating.

She hadn't meant for it to come out like that. She already wondered previously after he Queen's presence but never got a chance to ask. Now was certainly not that time.

He slowly stalked closer to her, his voice dropping, but still held the intensity, "I would tread very carefully Charlotte. If you think before I showed no mercy, try my patience. You won't like what the outcome is."

Truthfully his display with the young child before brought about the question of the Queen. Charlie kept thinking in her mind, if he showed no leniency to an innocent little boy, she couldn't imagine how he would treat others. Not even his own wife would be exempt from that list, and he obviously had no quarrels with reprimanding a woman and throwing her in a dreary dungeon.

Still, the sorrow behind his eyes told her he felt a level of guilt for the role he played in her death, whether directly or not, Charlie had no idea.

"I'm sorry," she said it so softly that she wasn't sure he heard with his back turned to her. As soon as he stood taller she knew he had, "I didn't mean it to come across as though I was accusing you of a crime, I was merely asking."

He said nothing, back still facing her, "she died not long after Connor was born. If that's all, I think I've done enough talking for one night. Jeremy should arrive soon with something for you to eat."

Skulking towards the door she called out again, "I'm sorry."

This time he did turn around, "yes I'm aware, you've made your apologies known once before Charlotte."

She shook her head, "no not about that, although I am sorry," she added hastily, "I'm sorry you lost her."

Though they didn't exchange many words, none were needed to convey the amount of grief she felt for him at that moment. She still thought him to be a cruel king with no level of compassion towards his people, but that didn't mean he was a monster that didn't deserve sympathy for the loss of a loved one.

Curiously he just looked at her as though trying to read her until he suddenly spun around and left, shutting the door softly behind him.

He said nothing to Jeremy as he passed by him on the way back to his own chambers, hoping to sleep off the wretched day.

Charlie however couldn't sleep, and not because she had been asleep for hours, but because of the lingering look she was left with. This man was an enigma. From what she could tell about him he was also honest, a brutal type of honest, which meant that what he said about her father, must've been true.

The uncertainty gnawed at her chest, pushing her body past the brink of exhaustion as she fell asleep for the second time that day.


	8. Chapter 8

When she woke for the second time, she felt more refreshed, the dull throbbing feeling in her head subsiding considerably, and the sting of her arm lessening.

It must've been significantly later in the day because when Maggie came in to help her dress she apologized profusely for disturbing her up.

Maggie, getting used to Charlie, looked at her more directly as she spoke while assisting her, and Charlie herself was becoming accustomed to Maggie's tendencies and politeness.

It wasn't that Charlie never ran across polite people while in the castle, but none were overly polite, not like Maggie. She had a loving, motherly nature about her, bringing Priscilla to mind, only Maggie was less comfortable giving Charlie advice…other than to keep her head down and do as she was told. Advice such as that went over Charlie's head and out the window.

Arriving late to breakfast, her stomach cheered upon seeing her plate of food waiting on her as the others' were finishing up theirs.

Connor spoke first this morning, unusual for him, asking after her arm and assessing whether or not she was alright. To which she smiled and nodded her answer.

Bass on the other hand said nothing, nor did he acknowledge her presence, other than shifting his eyes over the bandage.

Painfully tense moments droned on until Bass spoke, "Connor and I are traveling in to the city today to see some of the people, would you like to accompany us?"

Terror flashed over her eyes when she thought about what he was going to do in the city.

He smiled reassuringly, "Jeremy can escort you around the markets while we discuss the matter of a jousting tournament Malgrave will be hosting…if you'd like. I thought you might like to get something while you're there since your parents will be attending the tournament."

At the mention of her parents, her mouth broke out into a full on grin, no longer able to contain her excitement, "I would love to."

Apparently the smile on her face was contagious because Bass' smiled as well, a genuine smile, as did Connor when she looked over him.

Filled with so much excitement, she could hardly sit through the rest of breakfast. She just wanted to rush everything on so that time would pass more quickly and her father would be here, with her. She hoped that Nora would be coming although she suspected she would be.

Her father never traveled anywhere without Nora until she became Charlie's personal guard, then he swapped her for another knight except during times Charlie could spare her.

"When is the tournament?" She finally asked, dialing back her excitement, hoping that it would be sooner rather than later. Though she hadn't been away for long, she desperately missed her family. If she could just see them it would put her mind at ease.

"In ten days time," Connor answered from his place behind her on the horse.

Since the city was not far from Malgrave there was no need for a wagon, although for the first time Charlie would've preferred that to riding sidesaddle in front of Connor. She didn't like being in such an intimate position with him, and she also hated riding sidesaddle. It was proper for ladies yes, but was it comfortable? Most certainly not.

Her body hummed with exhilaration at the news, ten days time would pass quickly as long as she stayed busy and tried not to dwell on it.

Jeremy trailed close behind as she walked around the markets, looking at the fine jewelry and trinkets after Bass and Connor parted ways.

Saying they would be a few hours, gave Charlie plenty of time to meander through the city and get a feel for Kairos.

She only made the journey to Gallia once while living in Longstead, most of the time her father traveled alone, her mother preferring her to reside in the castle. Having very little memory of Gallia, she could attest without a doubt that Kairos was the most beautiful city she had ever beheld, flowers adding a splash of color all around and jovial music flooding the city.

More than a few hours flew by, evident by the slowly descending sun and the different crowd of people infiltrating the city.

"Jeremy?" She called after him, looking all around but not being able to locate his familiar face in the sea of people.

Continuing on, running her hands over the shiny pieces of jewelry at one shop, she wasn't afraid of being alone at all. The opposite was true, she was actually quite glad not to have a shadow and didn't plan on hunting him down.

A strong, calloused hand grabbed her wrist and without thinking about it, she shoved her elbow into the assailant's ribs and reared her head back meeting his nose with a blunt force.

A loud yelp escaped his mouth and blood spouted out his nose, forcing him to let go of her. Thinking it was Jeremy, she turned around to find that it was not Jeremy at all, but the owner of the jewelry.

Collecting himself, he charged at her, which she was quickly able to dodge, causing him to crash into the cart, drawing more unwanted attention to them.

She would've remained in control of the situation had it not been for two other sets of arms restraining her as the owner confronted her again.

"Think you'll steal from my shop eh? We'll show you what thieves get around here."

"Stop, you don't understand, I'm Princess—"

Slapping her with a force so hard, he effectively shut her up for the moment, "yeah sure ye are, everyone's a princess. Ain't that right boys?"

All the while being dragged to the center of the square she was protesting, kicking, and yanking her arms all in vain. There were two men who were much stronger and she had no weapon in a town full of strangers.

They laid her arm out on a wooden bench, dried blood pooling around the feet. She had been in this position earlier only this time it wasn't of her own free will.

The one voice the condemned her to the dungeon before was her savior this time, "I suggest you unhand her at once."

Taking advantage of their shock, she tugged her arm back, whipping around to knock the guy carrying a sword in the face.

By this point everyone had started to bow as Bass pursued them, Connor in tow, "forgive me your majesty we had no idea. I'm so sorry your highness, we thought she was stealing."

"And were you not aware that she was the Princess of Gallia and future Queen of this kingdom?"

With every word, his voice rose in octave, adrenaline visibly pumping through his veins along as his vision became clouded with red.

She knew what was coming next, "it was my fault. I didn't get a chance to tell them who I was."

"A chance you would've got if you hadn't been struck by his filthy hands," he sneered at the trembling man below him at his feet. He felt no sympathy for anyone who laid a hand on someone before allowing them a chance to defend themselves. Above that, three on one wasn't a fair fight, and if anything, he was a fair man.

"Please your majesty, I beg your pardon, it will not happen again," came his pleading, shaky voice.

"You're right it won't happen again," he nodded to Jeremy, whose hand was at the ready on his sword, awaiting the call.

Charlie had never seen Jeremy look so livid, no doubt furious with himself for making the mistake.

Before Bass had a chance to say anything else, Charlie stepped forward and laid a comforting hand on his arm, ignoring the warmth spreading underneath her fingertips.

Choosing to address him privately she implored, "please your highness, punish them in some other way. Please, I don't want anyone to lose their life over me, or any part of themselves for that matter."

With one last lingering look, her eyes bored into his as she leaned into him, "please."

He said nothing, which wasn't a good sign nor a bad sign. Sighing, his body relaxed under her fingers until she was confident she could remove her hand entirely, missing the warmth instantly.

"Get up."

That was all Bass had to say, the man instantly springing to his feet, eyes watering as he bowed his head, "thank you your majesty for your mercy, thank you, thank you."

"It isn't me you should be thanking," he pointed to Charlie, "you should get on your knees and bleed your heart out for her and her act of kindness. It is her you owe your pathetic excuse of a life to."

Taking him literal, the man dropped to his knees, laying his head at Charlie's feet peering up, "thank you for your kindness your highness. Thank you Princess, I ask for your forgiveness."

A sickening sweet smile spread across her face as she bent down so that only he could hear her, "next time you might not be as fortunate, I might not be feeling as generous, so I suggest you think twice before striking a person who is trying to speak. Also keep in mind, I don't need the king to back my play, do we understand one another?"

His eyes widened as he nodded, Charlie herself smiled a self-satisfied smile as she stood up, going to where Bass was arguing with Jeremy.

"How could you let this happen? She's out of the castle for one split second and you manage to lose her?"

"It was my fault, I got pushed around by some people in the throng of the crowd. I waited by the shop Jeremy last left me because I knew he would find me there, and I saw him from the distance making his way towards me before…"

She trailed off letting him finish the rest of the statement for himself. Honestly she had no idea what happened, but that sounded as good of an excuse as any.

Jeremy however knew that wasn't how it happened. He took his eyes off her for one second and she vanished. He had to answer for his mistake, that was his duty as a royal knight, but one severe look from Charlie shut him right up.

There were rare times when Charlie looked deadly enough to kill and mean business. This was one of those times Jeremy could tell, though he still felt uneasy letting her take the fall for it.

Bass didn't notice the exchange of looks between the two of them, closing his eyes, "next time you don't leave my side…our side," his eyes darted open and over to Connor, quickly remembering his presence.

She nodded relieved he wasn't confining her to the safety of the castle after what happened.

If it had been her father, and it would've been highly unlikely he let her go to the city in the first place, she would never be allowed to come back no matter if God himself walked beside her.

"Go back to the shop and pick up whatever it is you were glancing at, it's yours."

She didn't feel right about it, even after she picked up the necklace and admired the beauty of it, but since Bass let her have her way once she wasn't going to push her luck.

Going to discard the necklace in her sack hanging from her belt, Bass intercepted, "turn around, I'll put it on you."

Doing as she was instructed, she turned around, lifting her hair to reveal the creamy, soft skin of her neck to him.

His hands brushed her collarbone as he fastened it and adjusted it to hang low on her neck.

Letting down her hair, she met his eyes in the mirror as he muttered, "there, it looks beautiful," although he was looking directly into her eyes when he said it.

Heat rose to Charlie's cheeks as she quickly turned around and moved to step around him to stand by Connor, grinning down at her, "very nice choice, that looks lovely on you."

"Thank you," she smiled warmly at him as Bass grunted they would be leaving now.

Where there were only enough horses for Connor and Charlie, Bass, Jeremy, and the other knights accompanying them before, there was one more tied up to the post. Her ebony dark colored hair captured the warmth from the sunlight as she glowed.

Noticing the gaze of her eyes, Connor smiled, "we though you'd like your own horse here, her name is Callisto."

Stroking at her soft hair, Charlie grinned, "she's very beautiful," pivoting back to them she nodded, "thank you both."

Mounting the horse before anyone could ask if she needed assistance, she maneuvered so that she was sitting sidesaddle, a look of discomfort etching across her face.

Bass let out a chuckle once he was on his own horse, "you don't have to ride the whole way back sidesaddle Charlotte, not if you'd prefer the other way."

"I thought it wasn't very ladylike?" She teasingly threw his way, a lopsided grin across her face.

Bass' eyes twinkled, "I don't think fighting is too ladylike either."

"Touché," she stood up enough to throw her leg over the side of the horse, finding it to be much more of a comfortable position.


	9. Chapter 9

Bass couldn't stop thinking about Charlie the whole ride home. The confident way her back stood perched on the horse, shoulders squared and head held high as if it came naturally to her. The way her hips would pivot up and down with every uneven step the horse took.

But most of all, he couldn't stop thinking about the wide smile staying glued to her face from the time she swung her leg over the horse until they arrived back at the entrance to the castle. Bass recognized that smile; he saw it, not too often, on the face of his best friend. Or I guess former best friend was a more fitting title. Now they were just civil towards one another, communicating through letters once in a blue moon when Miles wasn't under Rachel's watchful eyes.

Speaking to neither of them upon arrival, he watched as Charlie and Connor parted ways, Charlie's head thrown back in laughter while a coy grin rested on Connor's face.

"Send for Duncan," he gruffly barked out to Jeremy who said nothing but nodded his head apprehensively.

Duncan Paige was a courtesan, a woman who engaged in sexual activity with rich and powerful men in exchange for money. The King had taken a particular fancy to after visiting her in a brothel late one evening. Every since then when he found himself particularly lonely or needing to let off some steam, he would send for her and she would always deliver.

She wasn't strikingly beautiful, but she was attractive in a subtle way. Her dark hair fell just below her shoulders, long fringe sweeping across her forehead landing just above her eyebrows. If anything she was just plain, but had a mouth on her enough to entice even the holiest man.

Bass knew he never had to go slow with her. In fact she much preferred rough sex caring nothing for the attachments sure to follow a lovemaking session.

And she always told him exactly what she thought, "so what's it this time, who is she?"

Bass looked over at her from where he laid on the bed, only his bare chest visible, as his eyebrows furrowed.

Duncan laughed, "That was your pent up energy, aggressive sex. Believe me, _your highness_," she smirked, "I know the difference."

He narrowed his eyes, "why don't you behave like other whores and keep your mouth shut. I could have you executed for less."

At that Duncan only kinked up one eyebrow and chuckled, "because you wouldn't have asked for me if you wanted an docile and subservient whore. And if you were going to have me executed, you would've done so already instead of dancing around it every time I said something to make you angry."

"But," she said, stalking closer to his bed with a twinkle in her eye, "I am curious to know what or should I say, whom, has you in such a tizzy?"

Lying back further in the bed he closed his eyes, "you can see yourself out Duncan."

A howling laughter erupted from her mouth, "you must have it real bad honey."

She said nothing else as she dressed, exiting his bedchambers. Still smirking on the way out, she skidded to a stop when she heard a gasp.

"Oh, pardon me, I'm terribly sorry," Charlie held a candle in her hand having just come from the kitchen. After the ride back, she fell asleep, missing dinner, and awoke famished. Lucky for her, Jeremy said the cooks were still awake.

The way she spoke had Duncan confused. She spoke as though she were a mere peasant, but looked like royalty.

"Who are you?"

Startled by the question Charlie answered, "Charlie—Princess Charlotte Matheson, and you are?"

All the nearby towns and cities knew of a princess intended to wed Prince Connor, but none had seen her.

A knowing smirked formed on Duncan's face, coming to the realization this was the girl plaguing Bass' mind no doubt about it, and she could see why. Even flushed and dressed in flimsy attire she was a beauty.

This could be fun, "I'm Duncan Paige, King's mistress, courtesan, whatever title you see fit."

Charlie said nothing and kept her emotions in check on the outside, but on the inside she was confused. She had no knowledge of her, granted she hadn't long been there, but for some reason it sent a pang to her chest knowing she had been intimate with the king more than once.

"Although I can't really qualify as a mistress, seeing as though he without a queen, but it's a catchy title, wouldn't you agree Charlie?"

"Well I could think of other things I'd rather be called," she dryly commented, going to move around her and return to bed.

Duncan stepped in front of her path, blocking her exit, "I do apologize your highness for any disturbance tonight you may have heard. Bass is hardly quietly," she eyed her body up and down, "especially when there is someone-something, troubling his mind."

Charlie met Duncan's playful grin head on, "that's awfully saddening don't you think? To be intimate with someone and know their mind is elsewhere…must make for a dull time."

Duncan laughed out loud, she was brassy this one, no wonder Bass was so smitten by her charming looks and sharp wit.

Stepping aside, she allowed Charlie to pass, watching the relief rush across her face, acting as the wind beneath her wings, propelling her forward.

"Lovely meeting you, your highness," she mockingly bowed when Charlie looked back at her.

She had no idea why she continued in that way and said such things. Charlie herself was still very much a virgin; she knew nothing about the couplings between two people. All she knew is her mouth opened and words jumped out without her permission.

Passing by his chambers, she tried, in vain, not to picture or think about what just occurred beyond that door. Baiting Duncan by saying it must've been dull was a lie, she could tell by his domineering presence he was anything but dull.

A blush colored her cheeks, felt only by her in the darkness of the night as she scurried along, not stopping until she was inside her own room with the door firmly closed. These thoughts were very much out of character for her.

Blowing the candle out, she climbed into bed, hoping in the morning she would rise and Duncan would've told Bass nothing of their encounter. As if he needed another thing to tease her about.


	10. Chapter 10

Either Bass knew nothing of her run in with Duncan, or he chose not to say anything about it, which she was thankful for either way.

Actually, he didn't say much of anything to her as the days passed. He mostly spent breakfast reviewing the plans for the jousting tournament approaching, and other than that, she hardly saw him.

Charlie did however spent a vast amount of her time with Connor, getting to know him more and trying very hard to see him as her future husband and lover.

When she wasn't with Connor, she developed more of a routine after requesting she be allowed to return to her training. Bass was hesitant at first, but she quickly alleviated his worry by telling him of her father's approval.

With that he let her, but only under Jeremy's watch. The other knights were not bad men, but he must've thought they wouldn't care for her safety as much as Jeremy would.

She would've much preferred having an opponent who wouldn't baby her and go easy on her, but Jeremy was not that person. He was vastly different from Nora who knew Charlie was tougher than she let on. Jeremy delicately circled around her as if she were fine porcelain with a crack already down the middle. One false move and the whole thing would shatter into pieces.

Nevertheless she was still grateful for his instructions, he was a very good fighter, different from Nora, but both taught her beneficial things.

This also helped the time pass rapidly. Before she knew it, the day was upon them. Her family would be arriving midday for the tournament tomorrow, putting Charlie in good spirits all morning.

She sat grinning at the table in the Great Hall picking at her food, anxiously awaiting a message of their arrival while half listening to Connor ramble on.

She dropped her utensils in excitement as a servant entered, alerting them of their presence as they strode through the double door entryway.

The chair Charlie was sitting in scraped across the floor and flew backwards as she quickly stood up, running towards them.

The first face she sought out was the face of her father, grinning widely at her, "hey kiddo."

Flinging her arms around his neck, he reciprocated the hug, laughing at her enthusiasm, "With a welcome like this, one would think we've been parted for years."

Pulling away she stuck her tongue out and pretended to move out of his reach until her drew her back in, "I didn't release you yet."

With that Charlie laughed, "Since when have I ever listened to rules father?"

Miles feigned sadness, "I was hoping time spent with Bass would've made you more obedient."

Bass rolled his eyes from his stood position at the table, "she could spend centuries with me and I would never instill obedience in her."

Miles laughed, moving towards Bass' as Charlie met her mother's face, "hello mother, you're looking well."

"Thank you sweetheart, I trust your time here has been pleasant?"

Charlie nodded, "very much so."

Forgetting her mother's cold welcome, she pulled Danny into a tight hug, whispering in his ear, "please tell me you've been giving her hell in my absence?"

He chuckled, the vibration rumbling Charlie's own chest, "as much as I can."

When they pulled back he frowned, "I don't know how you do it, it's exhausting."

Nora rolled her eyes playfully, "please, if you ask me I'd say he's doing quite nice being a thorn in my side."

"Well no one asked you," Charlie quibbled, throwing her arms around Nora's neck before she could utter she didn't like hugs.

She hugged her back, "no one ever does. It's good to see you Charlie."

When they parted, she looked her once over, and then her eyes settled on Charlie's, "how are you doing? Are they treating you well here?"

Her mind went straight to the dungeon instance, but choosing not to mention it she nodded. It would probably start with a firm scolding from Nora about her irresponsible choices before all hell broke loose.

"Yes everything is lovely, how has everything been at home? Are you getting on alright?"

Worry for Nora was evident in Charlie's eyes, though there was little reason as to why. Nora could take care of herself, but Charlie worried more about Nora being lonely.

She nodded, playfully rolling her eyes, "yes your highness, I'm coping quite well without your presence. I only shed tears the first week of your departure."

Charlie just made a face at her, opening her mouth, only to be interrupted by Bass' voice close by.

"Hello Nora, it's lovely to see you again," Bass smiled at Charlie's right side.

Nora's mouth twitched into a small smile of her own, as she bowed lowly, "you as well your highness."

"Miles tells me you've developed into quite the extraordinary guardian over Charlie, and please Bass will suffice for old friends."

Her eyes flickered to Miles briefly, "I would hardly say extraordinary."

"All the same, I'll relieve Jeremy of his duties, as I'm sure Charlie would prefer your company."

He looked to Charlie who smiled and nodded, "yes, thank you."

"Excellent," he said looking between the two as his gaze landed on Charlie's, "dinner will be served shortly if you'd like to bathe and dress in more appropriate attire."

Charlie nodded as she went towards the doors. It was customary to have a sort of welcoming dinner whenever guests arrived, and usually before a jousting tournament Charlie was told there was a commencement dinner. Typically including more people, the other guests would not be arriving until morning.

She had made it no further than two feet when Nora called out behind her, "I'll escort you to your room."

For a minute, she almost forgot Nora accompanied to her room. She was used to Jeremy only following her when she requested his company or when she went outside.

Once they were outside the Great hall, Charlie immediately stopped and smirked at Nora, "you don't know where we're going."

An obvious statement but Nora typically took the lead. Charlie liked yielding the power.

"Yeah, yeah your highness, you're all powerful here and I am weak, lead the way, but careful not to go too fast. I fear getting lost," Nora sarcastically replied.

Chuckling at Nora's pouty manner, she pranced on in triumph, leading them through the winding maze to her room.

Once they were inside Charlie started to reflect on everything said earlier in the Great Hall, and how comfortable Bass seemed to be with Nora, like they were old friends. That's when she remembered he said as much. Curiously, Charlie turned around as Nora examined her chambers.

"I didn't know you knew the King," she blurted out as Nora just looked at her oddly.

"I think you've taken one too many hits to the head. You do remember who I am right? What's my name? How many fingers am I holding up?" Nora jokingly laughed.

Charlie however remained serious and adamant, "I'm not talking about my father the king. I'm talking about King Sebastian of course."

Nora sighed, she knew what Charlie meant but she was hoping to distract her enough to direct her line of query elsewhere.

"Yes," she said after a long pause, "I know Bas—King Sebastian," she instantly corrected herself.

Like her father, that nickname rolled off their tongue so smoothly as though he had never been anything other than just Bass to both of them.

"How did you know him?"

Nora knew Charlie well enough to know, even though she asked a simple and short question, she was searching for more answers. She wanted the big story, but unfortunately no one had ever given her such.

Sitting down at the edge of the bed, Nora looked up at her and smiled lightly, "my father served in the King's army, King Thomas, Miles' father and a great man. I lived with him at Longstead my entire childhood. When I was but 6 I found myself to be a very curious girl, not unlike yourself, which meant that I often got into trouble. Now, usually I was able to get myself out of this trouble, but there was one instance where I could not."

"You know of the great river Aristae, with it's long winding rushing waters, stretching as far as the eye can see until it drops off into the lake of Carnac?"

When Charlie nodded she continued, "I was playing alongside the bank one day, climbing a large oak tree hanging over the river, when it snapped from underneath my fingertips and I went barreling into the frigid waters. I could swim, but the current overpowered me, rolling me around like a ragdoll. I'm not sure if I even managed to scream, but I didn't have to because I felt a tight grip on my waist, then I could see sunshine breaking through and air rushed into my lungs. Someone had pulled me out."

Charlie's mind began trying to figure up all the possibilities settling on one person, Miles.

She was shocked as a smile crept on Nora's lips as though she could read her mind, "Miles likes to take credit for it because he said 'he's the one that spotted the fall,'" her imitation of Miles was so accurate Charlie couldn't help but giggle.

"It was Bass though who pulled me out and saved my life, granted Miles said he only did it to prove he was the better swimmer of the two. Bass tells the story a bit differently as you can imagine. Whatever the reason I owed my life to them, and believe me, they didn't let me forget it."

"From that point on, we were thick as thieves. Due to both of their father's castles being side-by-side, Bass and Miles were always glued at the hip. There was never a time Bass wasn't following right behind Miles' lead, no matter how poor his decisions were, and I know them to be poor because on more than one occasion they were scolded for their behaviors. That also meant they got me into trouble, more times than one, but they would never leave my side."

She laughed, reflecting on the memories, "I remember one time when we were not more than 15 they started a fight amongst themselves and both their mothers were furious. They made them attend dance lessons, and you should've see the look on their faces."

At that Charlie howled in laughter, "what did they start a fight about?"

Figuring it to be something silly, Nora frowned, but answered the question directly, "it was about me. Bass used to tease Miles all the time about letting a girl in on their adventures, and how Miles only did it because he fancied me."

Nora's sorrowful tone made Charlie's eyes soften, "why would that have been such a bad thing?"

Sadly, Nora looked at Charlie, "because it would've reflected poorly on him had he expressed romantic interest in a peasant. My family was by far peasants, but since we held no royal titles or rankings, we may as well have been peasants. That's just the way things worked."

She shrugged her shoulders, appearing indifferent to the matter, but Charlie could tell even though it was long ago when this happened, it still mattered to Nora now. Coming to sit down beside her, she let Nora direct the conversation.

"Anyway, they claimed it was a misunderstanding, saying it had nothing do with Miles' affections towards me. Bass stated he felt as though I was intruding and slowing them down because I was unable to keep up. Miles jumped to my aid because he thought Bass was belittling me. Miles knew my father to be a well-respected man and the best knight in the entire army. He wasn't going to stand for someone discrediting me when he knew firsthand my father's outstanding abilities. They were back to being friends within a days time, probably sooner after having to bond over the traumatic dance experience, which you should inquiry after. They welcomed me with open arms yet again, but it was never the same after that."

"When threats of war emerged I tried to remain loyal to them both. I couldn't help but picture 6-year-old Bass coming to my drowning rescue every time I saw him, but there was a change in him. Such a change that I could not stand idly by anymore, I was forced to pick a side and I chose Miles. I'm not even sure of my reasoning, both had done terrible things, but nevertheless I joined his army, just as my father had. My sister however, she chose a different path."

Charlie couldn't believe what she was hearing. She had never known Nora to have a sister and Nora could tell by the look of surprise on her face.

"Mia was her name. She never cared for our father, attributing him for our mother's flight. As soon as the opportunity to break away from the family arose she left. She didn't care who the opponent was, it could've been the devil himself and she would've jumped into his arms, just to get away."

"What happened to her? You said she 'was'?"

Of course she picked up on that, Nora trained her well enough to notice the minuscule details, "she died in battle, fighting alongside Bass' army."

Her diction conveyed one thing, but Charlie could look in Nora's eyes and see that she felt another. Did she blame Bass for her sister's death, because if it weren't for him, she would've never been in the fight?

Nora began shaking her head, laying a hand on Charlie's knee, "I don't blame Bass, I just wish he would've handled things another way. I wish he would've treated me differently."

Charlie's heart was pounding so loudly in her chest, she put her hand over it in order to ensure it stayed in place, "what happened afterwards?"

Only shaking her head with a small smile, she stood, "I think that's a story for a different time, you're meant to be dressed and presentable soon, we've wasted enough time as it is."

Charlie grabbed her arm, "wait, what did you mean treat you differently? You have to tell me the rest of what happened."

There was a fierce and commanding tone in Charlie's voice, but Nora only pulled her arm away, "please Charlie, another time. This is supposed to be a festive occasion."

"No," she rose from her bed, crossing her arms over her chest, "tell me now."

"Is that a direct order?"

Challenge swirled around in Nora's eyes. She had never acted in such a manner; Charlie had no idea what to think of it.

She only nodded, clearing her throat as she looked directly at Nora, "yes, I command you answer my question."

"He held me captive, hoping to bait Miles into surrendering," she replied coolly, "if that's all Princess, I'll be waiting outside your door until time."

Nora gave her no time to apologize for her rude behavior before slipping out the door. Charlie stood with her hand over her agape mouth. She didn't mean to push her so far, but Nora always remained calm in distress situations, she never lashed out at Charlie. It was obvious she didn't want to talk about that, but Charlie's mind couldn't rest until she knew, and even now it wasn't at ease.

There were a million thoughts running through her head. What happened? How did Bass treat her? Did her force her to do something? Or was none of this because of Bass, did it have to do with her father instead? Was it because Miles didn't rescue her?

Shaking her head, she let the thoughts sink to the bottom, but she would figure this all out one way or another.


	11. Chapter 11

Dressing became a difficult task for Charlie, her mind kept wandering to Nora's cold response and the look of pain in her eyes as she left. She expected those looks from her mother, having grown used to them, but never from Nora. To see those looks coming from Nora hurt Charlie more than anything.

She fastened the dress up, for once not complaining about the way it cinched in at her waist, elongating her hips as it trailed to the bottom. She didn't complain mostly because since arriving she was given full range of deciding upon what to wear, meaning she got to choose the fabric and the color. Her mother always chose the itchiest fabric that left marks on Charlie's skin as it rubbed against it, pairing it with the most unpleasing colors. For herself, Charlie asked the dressmaker to use a softer fabric that while still hung tight to her frame, felt like a glove instead of a potato sack. Choosing a deep scarlet color, for the first time she was almost happy with the way she looked, in a dress nonetheless.

Upon finishing, she carefully opened her door and shut it behind her. Standing next to the wall, Nora looked up when she exited, pushing off with her foot as she motioned for Charlie to lead the way.

She tried to open her mouth and apologize many times. Eventually one fierce look from Nora shut her up as she turned and led them back to the Great Hall in silence.

It had been one of the longest and most uncomfortable walks of her life, even worse than her sentence to the dungeon previously. It was even worse to feel so alone with someone standing right next to you.

The seat where she normally sat left open for her occupation, was accompanied by her father's presence in the seat to her left, right next to Bass at the head of the table. Typically it was customary for kings to sit at the end, but knowing Miles he refused to sit equal in Bass' kingdom.

She tried to give a reassuring smile as he glanced up at her, noticing her entry, but pain must've shone through because he frowned though he said nothing.

Charlie couldn't concentrate the entire meal. While everyone else around her sat in good spirits, a heavy anchor attached itself to Charlie's foot, drowning her in a sea of misery.

She spent half of the time picking at the food on her place and pretending to smile anytime her name was mentioned. The other half of the time she stole quick glances in Nora's direction across the table from her, but Nora never met her gaze.

She didn't seem to be quite as angry as before, that much was evident as she sat more relaxed with her shoulders at ease, but Charlie could tell it stilled weighted heavy on her mind. Nora wasn't one for bringing up the past, and especially not bad memories. That's probably why Charlie only heard few stories about Nora's past, none of which came from her directly.

Miles looked over at Charlie's distracted gaze, "I hope Charlie hasn't been too much of a hassle for you Bass."

"Well what more could I expect, she is your daughter after all, and Rachel's. I'm just glad she hasn't set fire to the place or caused a uproar," he smiled, devouring the last piece of meat that lay on his plate.

"Yeah I mean, minus the one dungeon unpleasant incident, she's more well behaved than me," Connor quietly chuckled, looking down at his food.

He looked up when no one else joined in on the merriment as his smile vanished, "what did I say?"

Miles didn't answer his question, instead he looked to Bass, "mind telling me what your son is talking about?"

Bass sighed, placing his fork down as he rested his arms on the table, "there was just a small mishap that occurred, Charlotte would you care to join in?"

Not hearing her name, Miles nudged her. Seeing Bass look curiously, her brows furrowed, "pardon? I must've been distracted for a moment."

Trying to remain as cordial as possible, there was a slight snark about her comment that put Bass on edge.

Bass frowned, "yes I know, you haven't been paying attention since you sat down. If we're boring you, please feel free to leave."

"Well I'm sorry if I'm not giving you my full undivided attention," she coldly replied, which caused him to grit his teeth.

He cleared his throat, picking the fork back up he pushed around the remaining scraps of food, "we can discuss your lack of attention later—"

She scoffed, "what more is there to discuss?"

Ignoring her, he continued as though she hadn't spoken, "your father would like to know about any trouble you may have caused."

"Actually," Miles interrupted their odd exchange to look at Charlie, "I specifically asked about a dungeon incident Connor so nicely brought to our attention."

With that Charlie glared at him as he ducked his head.

Turning back to Miles she crossed her arms over her chest, "so Bass informed you he had me exiled to the dungeon? After I was wounded by his executioner's sword, mind you."

Miles whipped his head to the side, "what? Are you telling me that you left my daughter in a cold, damp dungeon to rot? What's come over you Bass?"

Looking past Miles, he narrowed his eyes at Charlie, "Charlotte isn't there something more you'd like to add, about how you got yourself into this predicament?"

"How I got myself into this predicament?"

Putting her hand over her chest in outrage, she glowered, "I got myself into this predicament? You're delusional! I didn't get myself into anything. I was showing compassion towards another human being, I couldn't just stand by and let you—"

Slapping his hand firmly on the table, the utensils shook as did Charlie under Bass ferocious gaze, "let's get one thing straight here Charlotte, you do not 'let' me do anything."

"Okay, would someone just please explain to me what the hell is going on?"

Miles groaned before looking at Charlie, "Please for the love of God Charlie, just tell me what happened and leave out all the dramatics."

"There was a young boy who Bass condemned to lose his hand,"

"Because he stole, he committed a crime," Bass interrupted.

Charlie's stomach churned, "he was just a little boy. I jumped in and when I threatened Bass' delicate male pride he threw me in the dungeon."

"That is an outright lie," Bass barked, "I gave you a choice to either sit down and remain quiet or go somewhere I wouldn't have to hear you. You made your choice and you suffered the consequence."

"Some choice that was! That's like choosing to die by blade or by bow, either way it still ends in death," she spat back at him.

Miles put his hands in between them, trying to calm them both down, "Alright enough is enough."

Sternly he looked at Charlie, "Bass was within every right to make that decision Charlie, and while I am furious at his treatment of you, as king he makes the call. It is no different from when I make decisions you disagree with."

"You would never make a decision as horrific as this. I have never seen you act so cruel towards a child."

Miles looked physically pained, but he recovered quickly, "be that as it may, if I were to charge someone with a crime he indeed committed, then the punishment would stand. No matter how much you detest it, that was irresponsible diving headfirst without thinking. You need to be more careful—"

"Careful," she yelled outraged, "there was no time to be careful, he was going to lose his hand right then. Did you expect me to sit there?"

"Yes," Miles nodded his head as Charlie's jaw went slack, not being able to believe what she was hearing. Her father, the man she revered all her life was siding with Bass.

Seeing the look of disgust and hurt in her eyes, he reached out and placed a hand over hers, cringing as she jerked away.

"I'm saying that it was Bass' call, he knows what he is doing, he wouldn't have done it if he wasn't sure."

Rachel rolled her eyes; she couldn't hold in her disagreement any longer, "even if Bass were in the wrong, you would still defend him Miles, that's what you've always done since you were kids. He could be waist deep in someone's blood and all you would see is the remnants of his innocence."

Bass snapped, "right Queen Rachel, holier than thou, because no one else at this table has done things, evil things. It's only me right? Everyone else can be cleansed of their sins, but I'm the one who has to carry it around with me like dead weight."

She pointed a finger in his direction, "do not compare what you've done to anything Miles has done. He is twice the man you'll ever hope to be, and a better king."

Bass just snorted in indifference, "I forgot you're always right, even when you're wrong."

"Enough!"

Miles' clenched fists pounded against the table, making his and Charlie's food catapult into the air, "I won't listen to you two bicker anymore like children especially when you know that isn't the case. Bass is no worse of a man than I am, and I wouldn't defend him if he were wrong."

"You haven't even gotten angry at him with throwing Charlie into a dungeon like some criminal he could beat into submission. Our daughter Miles how could you?"

"How could I? God Rachel, do you even listening to yourself when you speak, it's your fault she's in the condition she's in."

Charlie jumped to her father's defense, "now I'm your daughter, when it's convenient for you? You haven't been my mother in years, maybe even before then. Nora's been more of a mother to me than you have," she gestured to Nora who until then was silently praising God her name hadn't been mentioned.

Even though Nora felt a pang of pride at Charlie's outburst, she knew Rachel would drain the bit of happiness away.

"My dear, how could we ever forget Nora when she's just as much apart of this as the rest of us. She may as well be family right," bitterly she looked at Miles in accusation.

Miles rolled his eyes, "now you're just making a fool of yourself Rachel by acting so pitiful, leave the poor girl out of this. It isn't her fault that she's the one who has been there for Charlie."

"Of course it isn't her fault, it's yours. If you didn't have this need to keep her around for some peculiar reason—"

With this, Nora opened her mouth to defend herself, how dare Rachel accuse her of not being worthy of her position. She worked hard to get where she was, and she would be damned if she let Rachel Matheson make this about her. Lucky for her, Miles finished the battle for her because he knew once Nora started, she wouldn't be able to hold her tongue.

"She is a damn good knight and I would trust her with anything," his eyes flickered to Nora's briefly.

Not skipping a beat he added, "Do not make this about anything other than the truth."

Rachel sadly shook her head, "that's the problem Miles, there's always three sides to the truth, all of which you ignore in favor of personal ties."

No one said anything as tensions rose, the only person who remotely did anything was Bass, and all he did was laugh.

Everyone looked to him as though he was crazy, "wow, always a delight Rachel. I see that you've only gotten bitterer with age. I didn't think that was possible, but once again you proved me wrong with just how much of a bitch you could be."

"Thank you Bass for your helpful insight. I'm done talking about all of this," throwing his cloth napkin down Miles stood up as the chair squealed against the floor in protest. He was so angry Charlie could see his hands shaking as he stood.

"I'm going to bed, but before I do," slowly striding over to Bass, his right arm swung out to hit him square in the face.

Bass's chair tipped back from the force, but he steadied himself quick and regained his balance, snarling at Miles. Cupping his face, he could already feel the droplets of blood on his hand.

Miles bent down, his face inches from Bass', "If you ever treat my daughter with less respect than she deserves I will not hesitate to end you, for real this time. She is my daughter Bass, I don't care what reckless and foolish thing she does, do not treat her like you treat everyone else. And the next time you see fit to punish her, do yourself a favor and don't even think about the dungeon as a feasible option, she does not deserve to be sent there under any circumstances. Do you understand me?"

Without speaking or moving his head, Miles got the impression Bass knew he meant business. Miles Matheson never made threats, he only made promises and he has never broken his promise.


	12. Chapter 12

**(A/N: This is an all Niles chapter for the most part, but it's still fun to read, and the next posted chapter will be Charloe so there's something to look forward to. Most likely it will be done tonight as well.)**

Shortly after Miles retired everyone else claimed loss of appetite, all except Connor who was continued to shovel food into his mouth. Charlie could see he felt remorseful for the damage caused, but not enough to feel the sickening churn in the very pit of his stomach, not like Charlie felt.

Rachel, first to leave, threw a curt nod in Bass' general direction. Following her departure, Danny looked to Charlie conveying all the sorrow he felt, mixed with fatigue. He, like Charlie, was not used to traveling long, exhaustion replaced his usual boyish, youthful face. He sent a reassuring smile to Charlie as he exited along with two of his personal guards, only one of which Charlie knew to be called Ben.

Miles' father had a thing about picking up stray children and taking them under his wing, just as he did with Nora. He provided them a loving, nurturing home and they gave him their undoubting allegiance, not because they felt it owed, but because of his genuine nature.

Miles was the same way, however Ben Morrow was not a child when Miles found him, he was however in need of protection and care. Miles didn't give him the tender love his father was known for, but he gave him a tough love and the kind Ben needed more. They grew to be quite close and while Ben wasn't necessarily the best knight, Miles never doubted Ben would throw himself in front of a spear in sacrifice for either of the children. Miles placed Danny under his care, due to his more solitary and sedentary temperament, putting him with Charlie would've been more of a punishment.

In some ways it looked as though Miles was trying to replace the absence in his heart, once occupied by Bass, with Ben. He grew to love him almost as a brother, that much was obvious to anyone, but it was never quite the same.

As long as Charlie could remember, anytime she and Danny were together it had always been Nora and Ben who would accompany them.

As her thoughts drifted to Nora, she looked up to see she kept looking underneath her lashes at Charlie, silently pleading for them to take their exit as well.

She could tell Nora was uncomfortable so she nodded, "you're dismissed."

Not wanting to keep her hostage any longer, Charlie looked down at her plate until sure she could not take one more bite. She assumed Nora had left, but she was pleasantly surprised upon hearing her certain, but soft voice float across the table, "I'll wait until you're done."

Charlie's eyes shifted to hers as the corner of Nora's mouth formed a smile. It was only the ghost of her usual smile, but Charlie could read her well enough to know she no longer harbored ill feelings.

Nodding, Charlie wiped the corner of her mouth and dropped the napkin on the table, scooting her chair back. Looking towards Bass, all she got a glimpse of was his messy curls as his head stayed pointed downwards.

"If you'll excuse me, I think I'd like to retire to bed as well, I'm feeling a bit tired," she addressed both Bass and Connor. Mostly Bass, he liked when she formally excused herself instead of getting up and leaving unannounced. Tonight however it made no difference, he didn't even acknowledge her request with words, just a primordial grunt she took to mean yes.

With Nora in tow, she said her goodbyes and watched as Nora walked the opposite way, not towards her temporary quarters, but back in the direction of outside.

As long as she knew Charlie was safe inside her room, she felt comfortable going outside the castle for a bit of fresh air. Plus on the way out she noticed extra security in place for the festivities tomorrow, alleviating any further apprehension about Charlie's safety. She didn't fret about the threat coming from Bass, for some reason she gathered he had become protective over her, though his actions seemed to declare otherwise. The feeling of uncertainty came more from his knights, whom she only briefly encountered. Their curious behavior was enough to send up a red flag in her mind.

Circling the keep located within the walls of the inner bailey, Nora sat down on a hilly patch of grass with her back pressed up against the stonewall. The cold stones offered a nice contrast to the muggy, warm air swirling around and ruffling pieces of her hair out of place. Quickly tucking it behind her ear, she hummed in contentment, resting her head against the wall as she peered up into the night sky.

If there was one key thing she and Charlie had in common it was their love of the outdoors, especially during the nighttime when darkness replaced the glaring sun and twinkling stars graced the world with their magnificent presence.

Astronomy was a touchy subject, often leading to heated debates about how the earth came to be and whether or not it was indeed round or flat. Nora didn't care much for speculations, she only cared about things she could see and feel.

The night sky was forever changing, no two nights could one look up and see the exact same picture as they did the night before. Without realizing it, little things changed, even if were not visible at the moment. The change was not subtle all the time, one night you could go out and see thousands of starts lighting up the midnight sky, and other nights there would only be traces of specks of light. The one constant thing Nora enjoyed seeing was the moon. Although it changed shape, sizes, and sometimes colors, it let off a guiding light that seemed to always shine intensely.

For her, the night sky represented herself, dim, dull, and lifeless unless decorated with stars and the moon. Charlie was the stars, constantly shifting and changing, but always something to marvel at no matter how big the cluster. Some days you had to squint hard to see their presence, much like some days Nora had to devote extra attention to Charlie's performance, while other days she shined on her own so bright Nora had to shield her eyes.

If Charlie were the stars that could only leave one person to represent the moon in the equation…Miles. He changed less frequently than Charlie, but his emotions had been known to alter colors so to say. He could be white with innocence one day, and drenched in blood red guilt another day. No matter, for Nora what he felt on the inside never changed the beauty produced on the outside for the rest of the world to see. Even when he was at his most terrifying, he was still a sight to see.

"You're going to get a crick in your neck if you stare up there any longer," came a deep chuckling voice at her side.

She knew it was him from the minute she heard his boots squishing against the grass, there was a distinct way in which Miles walked, Nora grew accustomed to that.

"What are you looking for anyway? I'm quite sure it hasn't changed since the first five minutes you've been staring at it."

She shook her head, "that's not true, it always changes, even if it's so minute we can't see it with the human eye."

Miles chuckled, settling next to her in the grass, "sounds like something your father would say. He always tried to stress to my father the importance of navigating by the stars and how to be aware of even the slightest changes. He firmly believed one could tell a great deal by the stars."

A smile spread across her face as she closed her eyes, picturing the memory in her head, "he always tried to instill the same in us, though it only ever stuck with me I suppose."

She never said her name, but he always knew whom she was talking about.

Opening her eyes, she looked at him from the corner of her eyes, "I told Charlie."

When his brows scrunched together she turned to look directly at him, "everything. About what happened, well, some of what happened. And about," she took a deep breath, "about Mia. She was curious about how I knew Bass, and you know Charlie, couldn't be satisfied by the abridged version, she demanded the full report."

Miles smiled, that was something they shared in common.

His smile vanished as the rest of her words sunk in, "did you tell her about…"

Trailing off, he got his answer from the look in her eyes.

Running a hand through his disheveled hair, he vocally groaned, "Jesus Nora, don't you think you could've given me some warning before divulging all those skeletons. No wonder she looked at me the way she did, she's hurt and confused. What would possess you to do that?"

In efforts to control her temper, she bit the inside of her cheek as fury washed over her, "I didn't tell her the role you played Miles, but I wasn't going to lie to her, not like everyone else."

"That's not fair, I've never lied to her—"

"No you just omit certain parts of the truth."

"Because I don't want her to look at me the way she looks at Bass, like I'm some sort of malevolent monster for all that I've done. I know that I've made mistakes, which is why I don't hold them against Bass, but I couldn't take it if Charlie looked at me that way too…the way you look at me."

Nora's mouth flew open as she struggled for words, "what do you mean the way I look at you? I treat you no differently than I ever have."

He chuckled a humorless laugh, "don't do me the disservice of lying to my face Nora. I know you still hold me accountable for the role I played in your torture, and you should. There is no reason you should see me as anything other than cruel and merciless."

She said nothing, sitting perfectly still, Miles was the one who sought out her hand, squeezing it gently, "I could spend a lifetime apologizing and it would never be enough."

"Miles you shouldn't have to apologize, you're the king and I'm—"

He cut her off before she could belittle herself to just a title, she was much more than that, "you're Nora, the same Nora who took me by the face and kissed me to shut me up when we were 10. The same Nora who took the fall for Bass and me more than once. The one who has always been on my side, not because you felt this loyalty to me, but because you saw something redeemable in me. The one person who would never give up and would've drug me by my toes from even the deepest depths of hell."

Lowering his voice, Nora hadn't notice his hand made it's way up her body to cradle her face, "the only woman, the only person who never lied and made me out to be more of a saint than I am. You've always acknowledged my past mistakes and sins, while still seeing some shred of hope left in me. You never faulted Bass long for the blood on his hands because you knew deep down he never wanted any of it to happen, and if anyone's to blame it would be me."

"I lied earlier when I said you look at me differently. I want you too, I feel as though you should hate me for all I've said and done, but each time I look at you I never see that in your eyes. It would be much easier on me if you could start acting like you hate me a little," he chuckled.

Nora smiled, "well by all means almighty King Matheson," she rolled her eyes playfully, "please tell me how I could be of assistance in making your life easier."

Her teasing tone caused them both to join in on the contagious laughter, neither of them paying Miles' hand upon Nora's face any attention.

Her laughter subsided, "sometimes I wish I could hate you and be angry with you, but that's not who I am Miles. You know this, so I'm sorry to say, I'm going to have to ignore your request. I'm incapable of looking at you any other way, to me you'll always be the broody, pouty, bossy, troublesome Miles I've known my entire life."

His lips pressed against hers in a soft, gentle kiss immediately swallowing her chuckle. Placing her hand on his wrist, gravity pulled her into his warm embrace, as she moved her lips against his without any further thought. It lasted only minutes before Nora broke away, turning her head.

Noticing the change in her, Miles' eyes shot open, and his hand dropped from her face, "I'm so sorry Nora."

"You can't keep doing this to me, it isn't fair Miles. I'm not asking you to leave Rachel, God knows I would never ask you to jeopardize yourself and your title, but I am asking that you distance yourself from me. I am your royal knight and would like to be treated as such."

Standing up from her spot, she began walking, only halting when Miles hand shot up and gripped her elbow, "I can't just treat you like any other knight Nora, come on, we've been friends since childhood."

"Yes Miles, friends, that's all and now I am YOUR knight. It's not unfair to ask to be treated with as much respect as the others. I didn't need you jumping to my defense earlier, I am more than proficient at fighting my own battles."

His grip on her elbow tightened as she enunciated the word friend, "I do know, but if it had been any other knight I would've done the same. Plus I was merely trying to avoid the all out war sure to explode after you were finished with Rachel."

Sighing, he sought out her eyes, "we were never just friends Nora, you and I both know that, only I was too young and stupid to go after what I wanted. I cared too much about the consequences when I shouldn't have given a damn, I'm the king, I make the rules."

Adamantly she shook her head, pulling at her arm, "you entered into a binding contract with God upon your marriage to Rachel and I will not be apart of any plot to break that. Besides you are right, you are the king and it would look bad if your subjects found out you were sneaking around with me."

Miles drew her in closer, "I don't give a damn, I'm much too old to care about politics anymore Nora. The people love me, and I highly doubt they would care to know I'm in love with my own knight."

Love, she had never heard those words come out of his mouth, evident by the shock rippling through her body and causing her to tense up.

Miles loosened his hold, "you had to have known this was coming, I've loved you all my life Nora. Of course I will always love Rachel, she's the mother of my children and at one time she was everything I wanted, but at no point was she ever you."

This changed everything, Nora initiated the kiss, pouring every ounce of emotion she was feeling into it.

She could feel him happily responding with urgency until for the second time that night she broke away, placing one final kiss upon his lips.

Stepping back, she effectively dodged his attempt to reach out for her again as she turned her back, shutting out his pleads, "don't do this, you're running away and that's not like you."

Sadly she turned around and offered a small smile, "I'm not running Miles, I'm doing what you should do, the right thing. Things got out of control tonight and passions flew, it's funny how the night gives us a chance to hide everything away in darkness, but tomorrow when the sun rises it'll be a new day. All of the past is best left in the past."

Turning back around, she froze for a moment when Miles' voice rang out, "tomorrow may be a new day, but it won't change my feelings towards you and it certainly won't deter me from convincing you it's worth the risk."

For a moment Miles thought she was going to say something because she stood still, shoulders visibly moving up and down with every intake of breath. Finally she took one last inhale and began going back inside.

Anyone else would've considered it defeat, but Miles knew Nora and the fact she was contemplating it in her mind gave him a sliver of hope. It would not be easy nor sudden, but nothing about love ever is.


	13. Chapter 13

**(A/N: Coincidentally this is my favorite Charloe chapter and it just so happens to be number thirteen, my lucky number!) **

Bass watched as everyone, one by one, left the Great Hall, leaving to bask in his own misery as he watched the sun dip into the horizon and disappear. Not even the sun could brighten the darkest always seeming to follow him around.

He relieved Jeremy and his other personal guards of their services for the night so they may start the celebrations early. Truthfully he was just tired of everyone for the moment and wanted nothing more than to be away from them all.

Since the war broke out the moods often slithered their way back into Bass' mind, the same feelings and moods that led him to do dangerous things in the beginning. As the years went by he was able to distract himself better, but those feelings always came to rear their ugly head eventually, granted he no longer allowed them free reign over his actions.

Pouring himself a generous portion of alcohol into his goblet, he leaned against the back of the chair and greedily gulped it down until he depleted the entire bottle of its contents.

Eyeing another bottle resting on the windowsill, the one he instructed Jeremy to find and leave before turning in, he waited a few moments before he made his attempt to retrieve said bottle.

Those few minutes of rest turning out to be a grave mistake, it allowed the alcohol more time to settle, inebriating Bass and making even the simplest task, such as walking, a difficult feat.

Nevertheless with a great amount of effort, Bass made it to his goal, eyeing the prize as he wrapped his hands around the bottle. Saving it for a special occasion, which he first intended to be Connor and Charlie's wedding, he decided now was as good of a time as any to break it out.

Alcohol was by far scarce, but this particular one was potent and fermented for decades, and the alcohol only got better with age.

Inwardly cheering, he almost made it back to his seated position when his foot caught on the edge of Charlie's chair, sending it crashing to the ground.

"Shit," he muttered, bending down to pick it up, but he gave up after the second attempt. Even when she wasn't presence she was causing a disturbance and being a royal pain in Bass' ass.

Sighing, he sat down heavily, popping the top as he filled his goblet up for the fourth time that night.

Charlie's physical body dashed into the Great Hall upon hearing the loud bang echoing throughout the halls. Assuming everyone to be in bed at this hour, Charlie held her breath and quickly released it when she found the source of the noise was none other than the king himself. Probably for the best it was only him, seeing as how she rushed in without even thinking of a weapon.

The goblet sat in front of him as his finger traced the edge and the other hand draped over his face, making the only visible part his tousled tresses.

Cautiously, she took a few steps forward until she was a mere few feet away from his motionless body, "are you alright?"

It had been hours since she last saw him. They parted ways after that atrocious, theatrical dinner show and hadn't seen him since. She assumed he retired for the night in order to be well rested for the tournament tomorrow, just as everyone else had.

"Couldn't be better," sound muffling from where his lips barely moved underneath his hand.

"What are you doing down here so late? It's past midnight," she looked outside the window to see shadows of darkness, the only illumination coming from the moon perched high in the sky. Even then the moon was hardly enough to light up the room, but it was enough for her to see his face as he removed his hand and his eyes peered up at her.

"I'm well aware what time it is Charlotte," he commented dryly from where he was slumped over in the chair, gulping down the last remaining bit of alcohol in his goblet.

He hadn't intended to get this drunk, but one thing led to another and alas, here he was…drunk as a skunk.

Standing up, he pivoted back and forth on his feet, reaching securing the edge of the table in his grip to steady his swaying body.

Charlie, could immediately tell he was intoxicated. Coming to his aid, she placed her arm around his muscular back, ignoring the feel of his stout body, indicating for him to lean on her.

"I'll help you to your room," as she briskly stated as she walked holding a firm grip on his side so that he had no other choice but to comply. Not without protest.

He growled, pulling out of her stronghold, "go to bed Charlotte, I don't need your help."

Taking another step forward, he stumbled, knocking down another chair, wincing as it clattered to the ground again. She was surprised it hadn't drawn more attention to them, but he did give everyone a night off.

Out of instinct, her arm rapidly shot out, pressing against his chest before he landed flat on his face, "I don't care if you want my help or not. It's obvious you need it," she barked at him, going to put her arm back in its previous stance.

This time he didn't pull away but she could tell he was less than enthused with her assistance. He would be even more embarrassed if he fell on his face though, which is part of the reason he indulged her.

The other reason had to do with the close proximity of her warm, delicious body to his. Something he had been dreaming about since she first arrived, and Bass wasn't picky, this was enough to satisfy his craving for now.

It took them a lot longer to make the usual trip, but finally she arrived outside his door, not thinking as she pushed it open and led him in.

None too gently discarding him on the bed, she turned her back intending to get some sleep herself, plus she was still angry and confused. If she didn't quit while she was ahead, she could very well say something unkind.

Bass had other plans.

Reaching out, he shot up from the bed, grabbing her forearm, "what was the matter earlier?"

For a minute she was puzzled, she hadn't mentioned a problem, but then she recalled her rude behavior and snide remarks during dinner.

Her body went rigid, and he could tell, "nothing was the matter, I was just not having a particularly good day, I was tired."

It was an unconvincing excuse, but it was the only thing Charlie could think of on the spot. Avoiding a fight the only thing on her mind. There was no logical reason she should be unhappy, not with her family visiting.

"You should be over the moon, your family is here."

When she said nothing, he sighed and rubbed his temples, "What more do you want? I'm trying here Charlotte—"

"Like you tried with Nora?"

She couldn't help it, the words slipped out in an accusatory tone. Shocked, Bass immediately let go of her arm as though her very touch burnt him.

He felt as if a tub of icy cold water washed over his body, instantly sobering up his mind, "what are you saying?"

She shook her head and took two paces backwards, "nothing, forget I mentioned it."

"I asked you a question and as your king I demand an answer Charlotte," steadfast, he stood up from the bed, slowly walking towards her with more balance than before.

As soon as he rose Charlie's feet fumbled backwards until her butt hit the end of a small table in his room.

She looked him square in the eyes, refusing to be intimidated, "or what? You're going to do to me whatever it is you did to Nora?"

A cold snarl ripped through him, "and what exactly is it you think I did huh? Why must it always be me to blame? Did you ask your beloved father about the matter?"

She didn't answer, which told him she didn't speak to Miles first.

He scoffed, "of course you didn't because Miles could never do such a thing, Miles had never done anything wrong, Miles could never be a monster, no, that crown goes to me."

For the second time that night she demanded, "What did you do to Nora?"

She couldn't help blurting it out, he kept dancing around the answer and Charlie had no more time for silly games.

Invading her space, he gritted his teeth, "I didn't do anything to her."

"She said you held her captive," she remained strong.

"Now that I will admit to, but I didn't do anything else to her. If you don't believe me, why don't you try asking your father what happened? Instead of going around and accusing all the bad things on me? First you accused me of killing my own wife, and now you accused me of forcing myself on Nora and torturing her. Why are you so intent to make me out to be this appalling person?"

Her mouth stood agape, "I'm not making you out to be anything, if you feel the need to defend yourself it's because you feel guilty. I'm only commented on what I've seen firsthand."

"I have been nothing, if not a hospitable from the moment you arrived. I bought you a horse, allowed you free reign, and ensured your safety more than once. "

"Because one of those times you put me in harms way and you put me in a dungeon," she exclaimed, throwing her hands up.

"It's obvious you think I'm an evil, malicious, and brutal man so why bother even asking me?"

That was a very good question indeed, why did she ask him, and truthfully she started to wonder herself. After a few minutes she finally spoke.

"I asked you because I knew you'd tell me the truth," her voice quietly pierced through the deafening silence over the room.

"And where do you get the idea that I'd be so candor with you?"

Curiosity dripped from his voice, as his eyes gleamed with every step he took towards her.

She was right, if anything he was always honest, but especially with her. It physically pained him to be anything other than straightforward, especially when her doe eyes looked up at his and her lips conveyed a hint of a pout.

Her voice shook as he came nearer to her, "I don't know," her tongue darted out to wet her lips, "because you said you cared for me."

He bared his teeth at her, "don't mistake my caring for a weakness, I will not be manipulated by some silly little girl."

Enraged, he watched her chest heaving with every shallow breath she took, her lips parting as her eyes darted to his own pair of lips. He had never met a more infuriating person, with the exception of Miles, but even he couldn't hold a candle to Charlie. She knew just how to rile him up so the worst side of him would show itself, and prove to her he was nothing but a monster.

Within moments, before he had time to come to his senses, he smashed his lips against hers; roughly shoving her further into the desk, it slid along the wall as Bass' arm snaked around Charlie's lower back.

Her hands rested on his shoulders, while his other hand tangled itself her golden waves, gripping tightly.

When she responded to the kiss he pushed his tongue passed the barrier of her teeth. Letting out a hum of delight, he was pleased Charlie gave just as good as she got.

Her body drifted closer to his, as Bass' hand left the security of her hair and trailed down her body, trying to memorize every square inch. Landing on her hip, he roughly squeezed there, hard enough to leave fingerprints. Biting down, he sucked her plump lip into the hot caverns of his mouth, letting out a grunt when his cock came in contact with her center. He could practically feel the heat through her thin layer of clothing.

It wasn't until she moaned out loud he realized what he was doing and jerked away from her, running his hands through his hair.

Pulling at the strands, he turned around, trying to calm himself down. This was not meant to happen. He thought having sex with Duncan would fix everything, but he should've known better. A taste of something else wasn't enough to satisfy his hunger for the real thing.

Her hand rested softly on his back as his body stiffened underneath her touch, "I think you should go to bed now Charlotte."

"Bass, please," she muttered softly, but it was no use.

He turned around quickly and extended his finger towards the door, "I said go to bed. Now," he shouted.

Frightened by his loud voice, she complied, heart clenching tightly with every stride. She paused for a brief second at the threshold of the door, but refused to glance back at him. She would not give him that satisfaction.

She was only going to tell him it was alright, and that it wasn't his fault, he had been drinking. It was pure accidental and Charlie harbored no ill feelings. Of course most of that would've been a lie. It wasn't an accident. He sobered up long before the kiss. While she was no angry with him directly, she was mad at herself, not for letting him kiss her, but because she desperately wanted to do it again.


	14. Chapter 14

The arena was quite possibly, one of the nicest she had ever encountered, although she had only ever seen the one at Longstead, and never while in use. Still she was sure it had to be the nicest in all of the land.

And the largest too. It stretched as far as the eye could see, and was just as long in width. Of course, it had to be large enough to accommodate visiting royals, as well as local people, invited by his majesty himself.

Arriving late, she briskly scurried as Nora's laughter followed behind her. She was not particularly enthused about getting up this morning, not when she received very little sleep due to thoughts plaguing her mind. It felt like a war zone inside of her head the entire night, no wonder her head was pulsating.

Mustering up as much joie de vivre as she could, she plastered a smile on her face. People, all wearing large, smiling faces, occupied already half the seats in the stand. Apparently they had no quarrels with rising at such an ungodly hour.

The jovial mood made Charlie smile to herself, biting the inside of her cheek as she climbed the stairs, searching for her seat before the festivities began.

She offered a small smile bowing lightly to everyone she passed. She tried her best to remember every visiting royal families name, but decided that was much too tiresome. They all spoke to her for a few moments, congratulating her on the upcoming nuptials, asking about her time at Malgrave, and before they could ask any further questions, she feigned as if she was in a hurry. Introductions were never something she relished, and the last thing she wanted was to discuss was politics at a joyous event. All conversations tended to wind up about politics.

Instead she took her place, which just so happened to be between Connor and Bass. Her father was on the other side of Bass, playfully rolling his eyes as something Bass said. Her mother seemed to be in better spirits, she smiled warmly towards her, then scolded Danny when he stuck his tongue at Charlie.

Taking in her surroundings, she could see a great deal of effort went into preparing the arena for this event.

Flags of the most beautiful colors flooded Charlie's vision, the same colors matching the multiple tents set up beyond the perimeter of the arena. The jousters as well were decorated in a lavish fashion, mostly for show.

The horses were what Charlie really enjoyed, and all of these horses were nothing, if not impeccable. Horses in general were majestic creatures, but these were the cream of the crop, all ornately adorned with bright colors in efforts to complement their riders.

After she had finished examining the arena, she turned back to the people positioned across from her. Some she could tell were by far peasants, they were more in the emergent middle class, or whatever Aaron called it.

The parents gently shook the hands of their children, muttering to them, before meeting Charlie's gaze. Charlie could hear some of the mothers yelling, "wave to the princess," and as soon as the children did, Charlie responded without missing a beat. She always adored children.

"You're very good at pleasing."

Startled, Charlie whipped her head around, coming face to face with none other than Duncan Paige, still just as smug looking as before.

"Pleasing the crowd I mean," Duncan's mouth formed her ever-notorious smirk as she clarified, though her tone indicated she didn't mean that at all.

Clearing his throat, Bass spoke addressed her for the first time since arriving this morning, "Charlie this is Duncan Paige. Duncan, this is Princess Charlotte Matheson, Miles' daughter."

Not batting an eyelash or removing her eyes from Charlie, she smiled, "I know who she is Sebastian, I had the pleasure of making her acquaintance not too long ago. I will have to say, the rumors around town do not do you justice, you're much more ravishing in person."

Gleam in her eye, she casually turned to Bass, "wouldn't you agree Sebastian?"

Trying to forcibly swallow the lump in his throat, growing larger since the minute Duncan confirmed his fears, he was never more thankful for Charlie intervening.

"Are you staying up here the entire time Duncan?"

It was a sickeningly sweet way of asking, and of course Duncan picked up on it, "no, that would be improper, and we wouldn't want to behave in an improper fashion would we Charlie?"

Paling, she dared not look at Bass. Even though she knew without a shadow of a doubt Duncan couldn't possibly know about the kiss, it didn't alleviate the worry any less.

Chuckling, Duncan moved past her, "don't fret kitten, I was just paying a visit to an old friend."

If Charlie hadn't been wrapped up in herself, she would've been blown out of the water when Duncan slightly bowed before her father. Not up to par, but more acknowledgement than she had given Charlie upon learning she was a princess, and soon to be Queen of Kairos.

That was of little concern to Charlie. The sinking pit in her stomach grew deeper as she looked over at Bass' face.

"How do you know Duncan?"

Coldly thrown at her with no feelings or emotions behind his eyes, Charlie gave him the same courtesy, "I believe she already said how we know one another."

"Damnit Charlie, I asked you a direct question, and I expect the same kind of answer as your King. Not some childish nonsense," he bitterly spat at her.

Shrinking back in her seat for a second, the fire returned to Charlie's eyes, "You know, one day I'm going to marry Connor."

Obviously not what Bass expected, he all but tumbled backwards in his seat as she continued.

"And then I'll be the Queen, and you won't get to demand things of me. Or speak to me in that tone of voice, like I'm some _child_ you can scold and force into submission."

Sadly though, that day wasn't today, and while she didn't necessarily have to explain herself to him and answer his inquisition, she complied anyway.

She laughed humorlessly, lowering her voice so only he could hear, "I ran into Duncan in the hallway the other night after your little romp. She's a colorful person I'll give you that."

"But?"

The silent 'but' went without saying, Bass could hear it the minute she snapped her mouth shut. It almost sounded, like a hint of jealousy. That couldn't be it.

She shrugged her shoulders lackadaisically, "but nothing, just doesn't seem like your type that's all. Seems a bit too mouthy, too opinionated. You just come across as a person who wants everyone to bow down and do as you say."

Chuckling, Bass looked over at her curiously, now definitely hearing the jealousy behind her words and for some reason, he found that comical.

Deciding to test the waters, he leaned in closer, dropping his voice to a husky whisper, "she is very mouthy, as you say, but I'll let you in on a little secret. She does a lot more with her mouth than just talk."

Tossing a wink, he howled in laughter when her face scrunched up in disgust and she shrank back.

Not saying anything further to him, she engaged herself in conversation with Connor, listening as he talked about each of the jousters. He knew quite a bit about the sport and seemed very interested, finally something they both had in common.

As soon as the trumpet sounded both halted their conversation in favor of watching the sporting event.

Jousting was much more exhilarating now that she could see it live, instead of hearing Aaron describe the semantics to her. Plus Aaron lacked emotion or interest when talking about physical activity or sports.

Charging at such velocities towards one another, it was a wonder the horses didn't incite a fire every time their hooves struck the ground. Galloping mixed with the vibrant chants and cheers had Charlie literally on the edge of her seat each time a match began. Although, she always ended up almost glued to the back of her seat, cringing as the lance made firm contact with the rider.

Because they were made out of pine, the lances were capable of shattering easily, Charlie saw that happen a few times as the event progressed. Luckily she had yet to see anyone fatally hurt, don't mistake though, falling off a horse barreling down the path was painful enough to watch.

Still she couldn't help the surge of adrenaline she felt as each victor emerged.

Dragging on for some time, she occasionally glanced around her to get a look at others' faces, wanting to ensure they were enjoying this as much as she was. Her father and Bass were engrossed in their own conversation, making bets on who would win each round. Her mother looked interest, but more worrisome every time a man fell off his horse. Danny looked as though this was a punishment, and for him, it probably was. Even Connor was in good spirits, shifting his gaze momentarily to smile warmly at Charlie.

Finally she could hear the sound, alerting all of the final match to begin shortly. It was tradition to save the best for last. Any other time, the kings would be the last, but in this instance, it wasn't customary for kings to participate. Their lives were of more value, and the risk thought to be too dangerous.

But nothing about Miles or Bass was customary.

It came as little surprise when her father stood up, lightly tapping her arm, "would you like to help me? I can never get that damn armor on by myself, that's a difficult task in itself."

Confused, Charlie remained seated, "but I thought kings didn't joust? Aaron said it was unsafe and that people could die."

From her side, Bass, also standing to join Miles, snorted, "Aaron probably thinks anything requiring bodily exertion could kill you. He's not much on physical activity."

She scowled at him, but chose to ignore the jab at Aaron.

Rising from her seat, she trailed along behind her father as he descended the stairs, heading towards the main floor of the arena.

Peering up, she could spot a lot of perplexed eyes and hushed whispers as both King Sebastian and King Miles prepared to suit up.

Charlie had seen it done before, many times, it came with no difficult to assist her father in putting on the chain mail.

Holding the rather large, heavy metal helmet at his side, he heartily chuckled as Bass continued to struggle, "think you can help him out too kid?"

Reluctantly, Charlie agreed going over to Bass, careful not to make eye contact or touch him. There need be no repeat of the last time they were together, not in public especially, and not when Charlie hadn't even had a chance to speak to him about it yet.

Silent and swiftly, her fingers moved with incredibly haste, enough to rival even the fastest horse. She could not break away from his hold fast enough.

His fingertips lingered on the soft skin of her wrist, "thank you Charlotte."

Recoiling slowly, she briskly nodded towards him. Playing hot and cold was a very tiring game. She never knew if he was going to curtly dismiss her, or constantly find reasons to touch her, if not with his hands then with his persistent gazing at every opportune moment.

"It's not problem, I suspect I'll be needing help as well when my turn comes."

"Uh," Miles scratched his head, "your turn for what?"

Ever clueless Miles just looked at her, while Bass started shaking his head immediately, "forget it Charlie. You're going out there. It's not allowed and it's not the place for you."

"Where in the rules does it specify, no lady can partake in today's festivities," confidently, she crossed her arms over her chest. She anticipated his answer before he even uttered the first syllable. Obviously they spent too much time together, both could tell what the other was thinking, while Miles still looked lost.

Plus she asked the question already knowing the answer. There was no rule strictly forbidding it, however that didn't mean the king couldn't make up a new one right then and there to stop her. And knowing Bass, he would.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he exhaled, "Charlotte you know as well as I do there's no rule per say, but it's been this way for many of years. It's an unspoken rule if you will, and those must be upheld with the same respect."

The glimmer is his eye, and the way his gaze caught hers briefly made her heart soar out of her chest. It wasn't enough to distract her from the current predicament.

"Unspoken means not written in stone. Just because something has been going on the same way for hundreds of years, doesn't mean it can't be changed, and now seems like a good time."

Desperately seeking help, relief flooded Bass as Miles jumped in, "Charlie it's dangerous enough for people who've been practicing. Jousting isn't just something you can throw yourself into, you need the proper equipment and training."

Defeated, her shoulders slumped, but a smile formed in one corner of her mouth when Miles spoke again, "but…I'm confident after you and Connor are wed, and the next jousting tournament is held, you'll be able to enter if you wish to. I don't see why not if you're properly trained, right Bass?"

Throwing herself into her father's arms, she couldn't see the disappointed look on Bass' face when the wedding was mentioned. She could however, hear it in the apathetic tone in his voice, "of course, if you wish to learn, I'm sure Connor is quite capable of teaching you."

Releasing Miles, she finally pivoted around to meet Bass' eyes, but instead she found him to be looking anywhere but at her. It stung a bit, he was already casting her away as though the thought of her repulsed him.

Disheartened, she quickly brushed those feelings aside and turned back to Miles, "if it's so dangerous though, shouldn't two kings, I don't know, refrain from such unnecessary risks?"

Miles chuckled, as did Bass, "Charlie, we've been knocking each other around since we were kids. We haven't gotten seriously injured yet, unless you count Bass' pride and ego."

"Hey," he exclaimed in mock outrage, "that's not fair, you cheated and you know it."

Miles rolled his eyes.

"Well you're in luck, _princess,_" he teasingly mocked him, "because we'll have a watchful audience this time."

Bass smiled in victory, "so you're admitting you cheated then?"

"Not a chance."


	15. Chapter 15

Both men donning the massive helmet made it hard for either of them to talk amongst themselves, which meant they couldn't squabble either, a gift to everyone in the vicinity.

Making sure both were securely upon their horses, helmets in place, Charlie proceeded to her seat, legs shaking a bit as she climbed the stairs once more.

If anyone noticed no one mentioned it, which Charlie was grateful for. She felt jittery about the whole event in general, but her father being up there, and Bass, magnified those feelings.

Connor gave her a sideways glance as she mindlessly sat down, "should've figured dad would have to get out there and show off."

It was only a low murmur, but loud enough to where she could hear him and feel the animosity lacing his voice. She wasn't sure what he could possibly be bitter about, unless he himself wanted to joust, but like her, was told no.

In that case she could understand, but she wouldn't begrudgingly hold it over their heads. That seemed much too infantile and silly. Besides he was a prince, if he wanted to joust he just had to stand his ground and promptly assert himself. For Charlie it was a bit more difficult.

She noticed Connor wasn't the assertive type, and while it wasn't always a negative, Charlie couldn't say for sure whether or not she liked that quality in her future husband.

Internally reprimanding herself for getting so distracted, she focused her attention back on the match starting. There were still many apprehensive faces in the crowd, but for the most part everyone seemed just as excited.

Mimicking their expressions, Charlie clapped along with them as her father appeared on one side and Bass took his place on the other.

Other than the sounds of the horses pumping at an alarming speed, the arena was eerily quiet. As the two neared one another, the end of Bass' lance caught Miles below the ribs in his gut.

He slid a faction of an inch to the side, and then righted himself, preparing for another go.

Each time one got struck, Charlie felt herself shifting closer and closer to the edge of her seat.

At one point when Bass nearly fell over, she gripped the chair so hard she could hear it cracking under extreme amounts of pressure.

Flexing her hand, she relaxed, still not moving from her permanent position, which she hadn't realized was so close to banister.

Upon hearing the snap of Bass' lance as it pounding against Miles' armor, Charlie flung herself forward, only to be restricted by Connor. She would've been vexed, but when an outlier piece of wood fell at her feet, she realized it would've hit her had it not been for Connor.

She covered his hand with her tiny, delicate one, smiling kindly in gratitude at him. That was until she took in her father's crumbled up form as he lay immobile upon the ground of the arena.

No one said anything, no one even moved from their seat.

It was Charlie who reacted first, ripping herself away from Connor as she bounded the stairs quickly, two at a time, with Nora hot on her heels.

She didn't have to look back to know it was Nora, she just knew, she wasn't sure who else was behind her, but she didn't rightly care.

Bass, already dismounted, was at Miles' side, pulling the constricting helmet off his head and maneuvering him onto his back.

"Miles, hey Miles, look at me. Look at me Miles damnit."

Every syllable, every word got more pronounced the more frustrated Bass got, not intending to give up until Miles at least made a peep.

Pulling him up as his arm wrapped around Miles' mid section, he did his best to contain the look of fear on his face when he felt warm liquid seeping onto his hand.

It was blood, he could see it out of the corner of his eye, but his face remained stoic as Charlie sank to her knees.

Desperately, she clung to Miles' hand, not seeing the blood collecting at his side, "father, can you hear me? Are you alright? Father…PLEASE—just please, say something, anything."

Her grief-stricken eyes peered up at Bass helplessly, "why isn't he saying anything?"

Bass gulped, "he's going to be okay Charlie. Nora, come on, help me get him up."

Mutely complying, Nora inserting herself between Charlie and Miles' limp body. She knew Charlie was in a fragile state, but getting Miles up and to a place where his wound could be examined was the priority.

Unwinding Charlie's frozen hands, Nora let out a sigh of relief when she pried them apart enough to wrap her arm, cradling his body.

As soon as she got a grip on Miles' body, they hauled him to his feet, shuffling quickly towards the direction of the castle's main entryway.

"Come on," Bass snapped as she cursed herself for looking back at Charlie, who still sat on the ground. Nora knew Miles' health was important, but her first concern would always be to ensure Charlie's safety.

Jeremy didn't overstep his boundaries until he saw Nora's fleeting form, only then did he appear at Charlie's side, ushering her up.

Connor as well stood on the other side of her, saying something, but Charlie couldn't hear a word of it. She could barely get her feet to walk one in front of the other, and once Connor saw he shut up, walking alongside.

Rachel, Danny, and the rest of their guards were already in the castle as Charlie entered, going straight down the long hallway.

Elbowing her way in through the sea of people, she got a good look at her father who looked even worse than before. His usual pigment now a dull shade of white and sweat beaded on his forehead. That's when Charlie's eyes panned downwards acknowledging blood for the first time.

Air constricted in her lungs as her chest tightened.

Nora's voice barely registered in her head, "I need everyone to promptly exit the room, there's not enough space in here for us all."

Lowering her voice, she looked to Rachel, "you're welcome to stay your majesty, but I'm afraid everyone else really must leave. The sooner the better."

Sympathetically she glanced over to Charlie, who didn't so much as make a sound, but turned on her heels and strode out of the room, along with everyone else. The last thing Nora wanted was to shoo her away, but tight spaces meant little room to work.

When the door shut securely, Nora went back to frantically shuffling about the room as Rachel sat down at the end of the bed, careful not to get in Nora's way. She laid a comforting hand upon Miles leg. She couldn't quite reach out and grasp his hand.

For awhile it was silent, Nora said nothing as she tore the chain mail garment off with no apparent struggle and ripped off pieces of cloth to bind his wound.

She wanted to tell him it was coming to be alright, talk to him, say anything, but it was Rachel's place. The same Rachel who didn't know the first thing about comforting anyone. Still, she was the Queen and Miles' wife. It was her right.

Finally Rachel broke the silence, but not to address Miles, "you know the first time I met Miles, I knew he was going to bring me nothing but heartache."

Nora never faltered as she cleaned his wound the best she could, but Rachel knew she was listening, "I could just see it in his eyes, and in his attitude. And I'm not talking about this, I always knew he was rebellious and didn't care for the rules. I'm honestly surprised he made it this long without getting seriously hurt. I married him anyway because I didn't care. I kind of liked that about him. I'm not even referring to his complicated, messed up relationship with Bass."

If she meant neither of those things, it only left one option.

"It's funny, when Charlie came here I was sure he was going to send you along with her. I couldn't imagine a time you were ever parted from her side," Rachel laughed sadly.

"And when I brought it up to him, he said Jeremy was going to keep an eye on her, and that Charlie didn't need you. Charlie didn't need you," she repeated the phrase as if just know understanding, "but he did. He didn't have to say it, it was obvious since the first day. I just foolishly hoped it would go away. I kept thinking it was just because you were the only other woman who stuck around for so long and put up with him. But that's not the case now is it?"

It was a rhetorical question, but as soon as Nora finished bandaging up Miles, snugly securing the knot, she turned around, "your highness—"

Rachel held up her hand, "please just, just call me Rachel, and spare me the pity. I am above that."

Nora nodded, "I don't pity you, I envy you. You have everything I've ever wanted. You have two wonderful children who you hold at arm's length, refusing to acknowledge where their strengths lie. Instead you try to mold them like their clay. Picking them apart and squeezing them into whatever shape you see fit."

"That's what mothers do Nora, they make the best decisions for their children, even if it doesn't seem like it. Even if they end up being the villain. I don't suppose you'd know what it's like to be a mother."

It used to burn a lot more to hear that, but now, Nora didn't flinch like she used to. It was still a dull ache, but not as strong as the battering ram she once felt.

Solemnly she shook her head, casting her eyes at the floor, "no, I wouldn't. I was pregnant once though, but it wasn't in God's plans to bless me with a child. I don't hold a grudge, or sulk about what was taken from me. I accept the role I have and the hand I was dealt with. I would give anything to have the life you have, but I don't. Instead of seeing that you fixate on everything else."

"No, what I have is a title. You have their love. Charlie's, Miles', probably even Danny by now. I fixate on that because it's all that I do have. It has been a constant competition all my life, if not with you, then with Bass and I simply can't do it anymore."

Nora's chest rose and fell with every intake and exhale of breath, but she said nothing after Rachel's bold assertion.

"I hope that, if you don't intend to act on any expressed feelings, you will at least do the right thing and step aside. All I'm asking for is a chance for Miles to love me, really love me, without the constant reminder of his past lurking around every corner. He needs to be able to let go, and if he can't, then you need to be the one to let him go, at least for awhile."

Clearing her throat, she went back to looking at Miles, ignoring Nora's flabbergasted form as she sank down in a chair nearest the door. All they could do now is idly sit by and weakly pray.


	16. Chapter 16

Charlie stood outside the door, leaning against the opposite wall. No one had spoken since they exited the room. No one even glanced in Charlie's direction, either because they didn't want to make it worse, or they couldn't bear to look at her empty expression.

Either way the silence was crushing down on them as the minutes slowed to a crawl. It was finally Bass voice that rang through, "everyone is free to leave. Connor, take Jeremy and the rest of the guards and calm the crowd. Assure them everything is alright, and thank them all for coming."

For once Connor nodded without any hesitation, doing exactly as he told, but not before placing a delicate kiss on Charlie's hand.

Bass internally grimaced, turning his head at the gesture, fighting the urge to clench his hands into fists. Soon they were going to be married, Charlie even said so herself. They would be doing a lot more than just kissing then. He couldn't let himself think about that right now.

Besides Charlie didn't even stir as Connor's lips ghosted across her skin. She either didn't care, or chose not to respond. Staring blankly ahead, everyone else scattered down the hall until they were the only two left. As soon as the shuffling feet against the floor disappeared, it went back to the awkward silence immediately.

He started to say something multiple times. He wanted to say something. The words forming at the back of his throat, tapered off before reaching the tip of his tongue. Deciding against it, he snapped his jaw shut, mouth forming a tight-lipped line as he casually stood beside of her.

For awhile the silence was rather pleasant, and if it wasn't for Miles laying unconscious just beyond the door they were burning holes through, it might've been enjoyable.

Bass wasn't used to simply existing. He had to put on appearances, meet with people constantly, listen to grievances, make decisions, organize events, and every other tedious thing that came along with being king.

When he wasn't busying himself with work, he was alone, and not the kind of alone he particularly enjoyed. That type of alone brought an insufferable silence, weighing heavily upon him, drowning him in misery. It was during those moments everything came rushing back to him all at once.

Often times, he found himself seeking out Duncan's company. Not for sexual purposes, just for someone to fill the silence.

"Are you satisfied now? This was a stupid idea."

Those were the first words he heard her utter since parting ways from her at the arena. Her voice so raw, broken, and so low he wasn't quite sure she even said anything until a few minutes passed.

"Am I satisfied? What are you talking about? It didn't seem like such a stupid idea when you were signing yourself up for it. You should be thanking me for stepping in."

She glared, "you'll excuse me if I don't throw myself at your feet and grovel in gratitude."

Scrubbing at his hair, he sighed, turning his body to face hers, "you're right, I apologize. I didn't mean it like that, I was just trying to lighten the mood."

"I don't think the mood needs to be lighten. It's because of your nonchalant, blasé attitude this even happened in the first place."

He flinched, brows furrowed, "you think…you think I'm the one who suggested partaking in the event? That I unwillingly drug Miles out there carelessly? Be serious Charlie, when has your father ever done anything he didn't want to do?"

"None of this wouldn't happened if it hadn't been for you," angrily she gritted her teeth, forcing back the tears threatening to spill over.

"Lets not forget Miles was just as responsible for this as I was, of course, it doesn't surprise me that part slipped your mind. If I could take his place I would in a heartbeat. And it could've just as easily been me lying in here, of course, that wouldn't have mattered to you," he barked right back at her.

He just kept twisting the invisible knife in her gut every time he opened up his mouth. Did he really think she was so heartless that she wouldn't care about his safety?

Ignoring that she glared, biting down so hard she was sure her teeth were going to explode, "I don't want to hear this right now."

Chuckling humorlessly he threw his hands up in exasperation, "you never want to hear anything unless it fits in to this perfect idea you have in your head about who your father is and was. Newsflash kid, the sun doesn't shine out of his ass. Don't stand her and wag your finger at me when he's the idiot who suggested it."

She just couldn't take it anymore, not right now, not today. She couldn't stand to hear him utter one more word about her father's past, even though she knew he wasn't some saint.

The dead silence of the halls carried the cracking sound for miles, ricocheting off walls until it came full circle, back to her ears. She had actually done it. She hit the king, right in the face.

Not just a wimpy little slap either, but a closed fist with enough force to cause his head to snap to the side.

He wasn't anticipating it, and even so, he wouldn't have known the strength Charlie possessed.

Fuming, she refused to back down from his imposing gaze as his head whipped back around to hers. She would accept the punishment for a crime she rightfully committed.

No repercussions came as Charlie held her breath in expectation. Tension between the two of them rushing heavily, like waves before an impending storm. The current so strong, Charlie could actually feel the wetness on her skin, and taste the salty water upon her lips.

She was crying. Silently confirming, she lifted her hand to touch just below her eye, then hastily scrubbed at them as if not to show her weakness to Bass.

He saw it before she ever even knew. That's why his gaze softened and his heart broke. He was pissed about before, but the punch he felt to his gut at the sight of her crying hurt even worse.

"Charlie…"

His voice cracked towards the end, saying her name like a silent prayer.

Continuing to rub at her eyes, she strode backwards, turning her back on him as she tried to get a handle on her emotions.

Bass couldn't stand to watch her suffer alone, so he grabbed her upper arm and turned her around quickly before she could yell, or God forbid, punch him again.

Surprisingly she did neither, she stood frozen in his locked embrace, her arms dangling by her side. She had been hugged many times, but never like this. This was more intimate. Suddenly she collapsed into his warm arms, hesitantly bringing hers around the middle of his back.

She had no idea if she was still crying or not, but Bass knew, he could feel the wetness on his shirt, sticking to his skin.

All Charlie could feel was his arms, everywhere at once. One was soothingly running up and down her back, and the other was stroking her hair in the same soft manner. She could've sworn she felt a light flutter of his lips against the crown of her head, in between his tender cooing.

"Charlie," his cleared his voice, willing his voice to remain intact for her sake, "he's going to be okay, you know that right? He's the strongest son of a bitch there is."

When she said nothing, he pulled back, ignoring the sting in his chest as he took in her puffy, red eyes, "you know I wouldn't tell you a lie either. Do you believe me when I tell you he's going to be fine?"

There wasn't an immediate answer, in fact there wasn't a spoken answer at all, but Bass could see the shifting look in her eyes as she thought about it. That was good enough to convince him.

Drawing her back into his arms, he rested his chin on top of her head. All of his coddling stopped as soon as he heard her voice again, "I would've cared. If it had been you who got hurt, I would've car-cared."

Crushing her against his side, Bass was kicking himself all the way to Gallia and back at least a dozen times. He only said it in the heat of the moment, he didn't intend for it to affect her so. Hearing her struggle to get the words out, and feeling the distraught way her body shook against his, he knew his heart had been ripped out. This was a level of agony Bass had never felt before, not even when Miles practically abandoned him and turned his back on their brotherhood and friendship. And Charlie didn't deserve this.

"I know you would Charlie. You would care if anyone were in pain, even people who don't deserve your sympathy or concern. There's no excuse for me saying that, I was just—"

"Upset, I know."

So caring, so understanding, so compassionate, Charlie was a rare gem in the world. Stubborn, headstrong, fierce, all the while trying to see the good in everyone. If even a sliver of good existed, Charlie would cling to it and magnify it, without even realizing it.

"That doesn't justify your reactions," and she was always bluntly honest, "but you are deserving Bass, whether you think so or not."

Pulling slightly out of his embrace, she tilted her head up to gauge his reaction, breath catching as she found his face inches away from hers. She had to resist the magnetic draw she felt. Instead her hand lightly traced the outline of his jaw, running her hand along the stubble growing on his chin.

Without even thinking about it, Bass nuzzled his face into her hand, softly ghosting his lips on the inside of her palm.

There was so much more she wanted to say, but as soon as the door creaked open she was out of his arms in a flash and crossing the threshold of the hallway, "how is he? Is he awake? Is he alright?"

Nora cracked a smile at Charlie's rambling, "damn bastard just wanted to know who won. He was however a little disappointed when I told him I wasn't his congratulatory nurse."

Charlie giggled, laughter contagious as Bass let out a chuckle.

Nora pushed the door open with her foot, smiling as they entered. It was Bass who spoke first, "remind me again who is the better jouster? I couldn't remember as I watched you ungracefully tumble from your horse."

Miles snarled, "yeah, yeah, but at least I didn't shove my lance into your lungs in order to win."

"It wasn't your lungs you jackass, and don't go playing the sympathy card in hopes I'll let you have your title back. I mean if you died maybe," feeling a sharp jab in his ribs he laughed meeting Charlie's angry glower, "kidding."

A grumbled escaped Miles' throat, "he isn't kidding. Even dead he'd dance over my tomb and pretend he was the better jouster. You should elbow him a little harder for me kid."

Charlie ignored the comment, shifting closer to his side, hesitant to reach out and touch him. He looked so fragile, so delicate, so unlike himself.

"Well I'd ask you how you are feeling…"

She trailed off as Miles attempted to supply the rest, "but the answer to that question is fairly evident?"

Smiling, she shook her head, "no I just wouldn't want to hear you complain anymore," she teasingly threw at him.

Miles on the other hand feigned hurt, placing his hand over his heart, "how you wound me kid, when I'm laying here injured and damaged. I can really feel the love."

"Next time maybe you shouldn't make such impulsive, reckless decisions then."

He laughed out loud, grimacing when it sent a spasm to his sutured lesion.

"Don't ruin my hard work, I'm by far a nurse so there's no telling if it will hold," Nora jokingly scolded from her place by the door. Being a knight meant she was well acclimated in the art of sewing up wounds.

"You know Miles, if you wanted to stay a little longer, all you had to do was ask. No need to stage a dramatic injury and ruin a perfectly good tournament," Bass smirked.

Rachel, who remained silent before, patted Charlie's hand, "I'm going to make sure Danny is alright. You know how your brother is about blood."

Charlie nodded, smiling as she recalled childhood memories where Danny would always run at the first drop of blood. He claimed he just didn't want to assist in the clean up, but Charlie always suspected it was really because he was squeamish.

Saying nothing, Rachel offered a terse nod in Bass' direction as she slipped out the door.

It wasn't until she left that Bass let out a low whistle, "still doesn't like me does she?"

Miles' eyebrow shot up, "what's there to like?"

When he didn't smile or laugh, Miles just sighed in defeat, "Bass I've known the woman as long as you have and most of the times I don't even think she likes me."

At that Bass did laugh, as did Charlie, but it was the sad truth they all knew too well. If Rachel did like someone, or even love them, she had an unusual way of displaying it. It was only Nora who didn't crack a smile or laugh.

"Did you go appease the crowd?"

Bass shook his head, "no I sent Connor and Jeremy to contain the excitement and make sure everyone from the village returned home safely."

"What about the visitors?"

Bass nervously rubbed the back of his neck, "I'll have to explain to them everything is delayed until further notice."

"What do you mean everything?"

Charlie inquired while simultaneously Miles exclaimed, "Postponed? Why would we put anything off? It can still continue as planned, as per our discussion. It's supposed to be in two days time right? Perfect I'll be recovered enough by then."

"Don't be an idiot Miles, you can't even sit up right now, I hardly think you'll be in the mood to be standing on your feet in two days time," Bass confidently objected.

Interjecting, Charlie waved her hand indicating her presence, "could someone please inform me what you two are bickering about? What was supposed to take place?"

Exhaling noisily, Bass never met her gaze, but willingly told, "There was supposed to be a celebration after the tournament. Dancing, drinking, merriment. It was also the time I was to announce your engagement to Connor."

No words formed in Charlie's mind. Dully she sat, nodding her head in acknowledgement. She always knew the time would come. That was the whole reason she was there at Malgrave. She just wished they forgot about it like she had.

Connor was a perfect gentleman, but Charlie could hardly describe him further. In the times they spent together they discussed many topics, but never could she get a feel for his character.

Any argument fell silent upon her lips, already having more than enough time to get used to the idea.

Noticing her odd behavior, Bass snapped his head back to Miles who was speaking, "there's no need to put it off any longer. I appreciate you not rushing things and giving Charlie time to adjust Bass, but you have adjusted right kiddo?"

Directing his line of questioning to Charlie this time, she had no choice but to plaster on a fake smile and nod.

Miles, oblivious as he was, returned the smile, "plus I don't dance anyway so now I have a legitimate excuse."

Undecidedly, Bass nodded and shrugged his shoulders, appearing indifferent. Truthfully, he didn't want to announce it. He was trying to use Miles as a scapegoat, opting for that rather than admittance.

"We'll see how you fair to-morrow before any decisions are made, regardless everyone will understand."

"Besides," Charlie avowed, "You have to be capable of dancing. If I have to dance, then I'm afraid you are required to as well."

Grumpily, Miles turned his head to the side, groaning, "ah hell Charlie, way to make me feel worse."

Beaming, she said nothing as she turned to look at Nora, wearing a light smile and an apprehensive expression. Reassuringly, she conjured as much zeal while smiling at Bass. With less passion, the corners of his mouth twitched up into a smile.

"Okay everyone's dismissed, if I'm going to be presentable, I need to catch up on my beauty rest," Miles announced after a few minutes.

Bass' mouth opened to offer some words of mockery, but one fierce glare from Miles shut him up. The grin never left his face, Miles already knew what Bass was going to say, he could tell.


	17. Chapter 17

Miles was a warrior inside and out. The next day, color returned to his pale, ashy cheeks, as he sat alert up in bed. He looked almost as good as new. Bass on the other hand looked tired, like there were a million thoughts scrambling through his mind as he entered Miles' chambers.

Of course Miles didn't miss the look, "what's with you? You look like you're the one who got knocked off your horse by some pompous asshole king, not me."

"Nothing," he briskly dismissed the inquiry, "just didn't get a whole lot of sleep is all."

And that was the truth. He was up all night, dreams plagued with the idea of Charlie marrying his son, though those were the terms he agreed upon in the first place. He didn't know her then, and he was having a hard time following the plan.

He noticed that since Charlie's arrival, his son was a lot happier, following her around like a lost, little lamb, always mindful of her presence and her absence.

Charlie on the other hand was not always cheerful. Some days she looked as though she liked Connor, and other days her mind was elsewhere. Mostly on those days her mind drifted towards another Monroe.

Speaking of the little minx, Charlie burst through the doors, eager to check on her father. A smile graced her face upon seeing him sitting up, alive and well.

Her eyes glanced over to Bass' out of the corner of her eye, turning her head more fully towards him when she took in his appearance.

"Is everything alright, you look a bit sickly?"

He shook his head as Miles gave him an 'I told you so' look, "no everything is perfectly alright Charlotte. I just didn't sleep well," he tried to mumble the last part, but her precise hearing picked up on it.

Her mind went immediately to Duncan, thinking he meant the reason he didn't sleep was because he was doing other things. But when his head subtly shook, answering her silent question, her heart almost leapt out of her chest in relief. Although she had no reason to neither be jealous nor feel relief.

"Maybe you should lie down for a bit, you know, before the festivities this evening," she kindly offered as Miles snorted.

"Yes please go lie down, the last thing we need tonight is a cranky Bass, the last time we had one of those a whole village got destroyed," there was a teasing tone underlying his words, but Bass said nothing.

He knew Miles was just taunting him about his lack of sleep correlating with his anger issues, but those words struck a chord. He was not that same man anymore, but a rest couldn't hurt.

"I suppose it wouldn't be a bad idea. Just had to check on sleeping beauty first to make sure the gathering was still to go on accordingly," he threw a pointed look in Miles' direction.

To which he waved his hand theatrically, "I told you I would be as good as new, and here I am, better than ever. The show will go on as they say."

Bass tersely nodded, slightly dipping his head in recognition to Charlie as he passed by her, exiting the room. She didn't miss the subtle way his hand grazed hers, electrifying her whole body from just one small, simple touch.

Once he was gone, she directed her full attention back on Miles, grasping his large, calloused hand in her small, delicate one.

"How are you really feeling?"

"Like I got thrown from a horse and received a giant splinter in my side," he quipped, but then smiled, "seriously kid, I'm alright."

"And, you're positively sure you're up for this tonight," she further inquired, hoping her disinterested tone didn't shine through.

Obviously it did because Miles sighed heavily, "listen, I understand you're worried about making the announcement official, but it won't change anything. You were always promised to Connor from the minute you arrived here."

She nodded, trying to muster up a smile, but she didn't believe any of the words he was saying. He made it sound as though it wouldn't change anything, but it would change everything. Now everyone would know. It would be official. It would feel real. And for some reason, Charlie just wasn't ready for it to be real.

Feeling her discomfort, he squeezed her hand, "hey," his soft voice brought her back to the present, "you know I will always be around and if ever you want to spend time at home, I'm sure Bass wouldn't stop you from visiting, even when you're married. I think he's taken a liking to you since you've been here, and he's happy to have you as his daughter-in-law."

A pang jabbed at Charlie's heart hearing those words aloud. It wasn't something a person should feel distressed about, but thinking of Bass as her father-in-law made Charlie's stomach churn.

Removing her hand from her father's, she plastered on a fake smile, standing up from her spot on the bed, "I suppose I should retire to my chambers to get ready if I'm going to look presentable enough to marry a prince and someday future king."

Miles chuckled as she turned on her heels, willing the tears to remain at bay until she was safely in her room, alone. She scurried quickly across the hallway, down the staircase, and through the entrance to her room. Finally inside, she collapsed on the bed, tears slowly streaming down her face.

She knew it would be moments before Nora, or one of the many other servants entered to aid her, she had to gain control of her emotions. Wiping roughly at her eyes, she inhaled a deep, calming breath when she heard a gentle rap upon the door.

"Enter," she called, not bothering to ask who was there.

Rachel tentatively stalked in, shutting the door behind her, "what's the matter?"

Charlie looked at her reflection in the mirror, trying to find visible signs of her anguish as her mother smiled sadly.

"I didn't need to look at you in order to know something was wrong Charlie, I gave birth to you, I'm your mother," she emphasized the word, connecting with Charlie's eyes in the mirror.

Shaking her head lightly, she turned around, "it's—"

"Don't say it's nothing," she interjected, "I get enough of that from your father, I don't need it from you too. Besides, you've never had a problem speaking your mind before. Why is this time any different?"

"Because this is something that can't be changed," solemnly, she let her head fall towards the ground in embarrassment.

"Are you having second thoughts about wedding Connor because of Bass?"

Charlie's eyes immediately widened, snapping up to meet her mother's. It was a silent confirmation, one that didn't require Charlie to verbally answer, it was written upon her face.

Rachel sighed, "Charlie I understand your fascination with Bass, really I do. He's," she struggled for the words, "quite charming, but he's also very dangerous. No matter how he's changed, there will always be that part of him there, lurking behind the shadows. Miles has chosen to forgive him, as well as Nora, and I harbor no ill feelings towards him. That doesn't mean I haven't forgotten all the terrible things I've seen him do and say," she involuntarily shuddered.

"Yeah well, no one will tell me a damn thing," she countered, not bothering to apologize for her foul language, which her mother constantly scolded her for.

Instead of reprimanding her, Rachel patted the space beside her on the bed as Charlie hesitantly sat down.

"I'll tell you the little bit that I do know because you're right, you should know the truth."

Rachel didn't really care if she knew what happened or not, she was just hoping if she told Charlie the ugly truth about Bass, she would forget all about him and see him as the monster he really is.

"Bass had been spiraling and spiraling for months, plummeting into a dark hole, and Miles was too caught up to see. He only saw Bass as the little boy he grew up with, side by side. He let his opinions jade him, clouding his judgement. He turned a blind eye to the innocent people Bass was murdering for speaking out against his tyranny. He used failure to pay taxes, among other things, as a reason to burn villages to the ground. He wanted to instill order in the people, but all he accomplished was instilling fear. He drug Miles down a dark road that's taken him years to turn around because he was so lost by Bass' bad direction."

Charlie couldn't believe what she was hearing. Burning villages to the ground, massacring innocent people all in the name of order and control.

It was bad enough when Nora dropped that bomb on her about being held prisoner by him. Charlie couldn't believe what she was hearing, but the bad thing was, she could. He was willing to chop off a little boy's hand for supposed stealing not long after she arrived at Malgrave. How many others did he deprive of their rights and freedom before she got there? She couldn't think about that without her stomach churning even more, stomach rumbling.

It was obvious by the green coloring, and the disgusted look on her face, Rachel had succeeded in her intentions. But the last thing she wanted was to ever hurt Charlie, she just knew best. She was her mother, and Bass wasn't the person she thought he was. He was not even the same person Miles made him out to be, but that was a different story.

Rachel couldn't stop Miles from forgiving Bass and putting everything in the past, but she could damn well stop Charlie from following him blindly down the rabbit hole.

"I'm so sorry honey," she laid a comforting hand upon Charlie's knee as she sat there mutely. It felt foreign, heavy, out of place.

"I didn't want for things to turn out this way. I didn't want to be the one to tell you, but I couldn't let you get hurt in the process. The only reason I allowed the match between you and Connor was because Miles promised he was nothing like Bass. Otherwise I would've put my foot down."

She sought out Charlie's eyes, lowering her voice, "he isn't a good man Charlie, no matter how many good deeds you've seen him do. He will never be fully good again, he's broken."

Standing up quickly, she ignored her mother's pained expression, "if that's all you may leave."

Turning her back on her mother, she called out to her once again, "please send Nora and my two other ladies so that I may dress accordingly for tonight."

Hearing the door close, Charlie refused to let her emotions get the best of her. It wasn't the news that was shocking; it was the fact that she had been so stupid. How could she have not already detected that? She needed her unobservant, selfish mother to point out how careless and foolish she had been. She felt like a child in that moment, blind and ignorant.

She was never more thankful than when Nora entered the room, smile stretching across her face, as well as the two other ladies behind her.

She thought of nothing else her mother mentioned as Nora chattered about the people who would be amongst them tonight. Usually, she wasn't one to speak out against royalty, but with Charlie, she knew she was safe to express her feelings.

She told her all about how snobby and conceited most of the people were, and some particular odd quirks they had. Like Edward Thomas who had a nasty habit of leering a little too long in the direction of spoken for women, and how if Marcus Drighton asked her to dance, say no immediately. He was a terrible dancer, and his hands always wandered too far south in Nora's opinion.

One of her ladies, Magdalene, filled the tub with hot water, insisting Charlie must bathe now before it turned lukewarm. Sighing, she turned her attention away from Nora to follow her into where the bathtub sat, directly in the middle of the room.

Undressing, Charlie tossed her clothes to the side as Maggie picked them up, delicately folding and placing them in the corner of the room onto a chair.

She allowed Magdalene to scrub at the dirt and filth, caked on her arms until her skin was almost rubbed raw. She did feel like a new person when she emerged from the water.

Toweling her body off as best as she could, Magdalene squeezed out the water latching itself on to her long hair, careful not to twist too strictly.

With her body depleted of all the remaining drops of water, and her hair almost fully dry, Maggie took over, assisting her into her gown for the evening.

It was actually very stunning, even Charlie had to admit, and she was not a particular fan of dresses.

It was a deep, violet color, gold accents covering the entirety of the dress, swirling festively around the shorter sleeves and bodice. The gold composing the accents was the same color used in the belt, fastening snugly at her waist. It wasn't unusually puffy around the bottom, meaning it wasn't chosen by her mother. Instead, it was very slender and lightweight, dropping down to brush the ground just barely when she slipped into her shoes.

"Wow," she heard a low wolf whistle coming from the doorway. Turning her head, she caught her father's gleaming gaze, "you look beautiful sweetheart."

His sentiment made her tear up a little bit, "thank you daddy."

"It goes particularly well with the color of your bandages," she teasing tossed in his direction as he just rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, keep it up and I'll have someone else escort you tonight," he firmly crossed his arms over his chest, daring her.

At that declaration, her face lit up as she all but threw herself into his arms. She was glad it was going to be him instead of Connor; she just wasn't ready to be given away yet.

"Alright well, chop chop," he clapped his fingers as Nora rolled her eyes, not paying him any attention. Maggie however felt a bit of pressure to finish fixing Charlie's hair, winding small, purple flowers in random places all throughout her braid.

When she was done, Charlie got once last glimpse of herself in the mirror, breath catching in her throat. She actually felt beautiful for once.

Linking her arm with her father's, she allowed him to lead her down the hall, Nora's presence always behind her as they advanced closer to the Great Hall.

Her dress lightly touched the ground as they descended down the staircase, all eyes turning upon seeing her. Her eyes darted around to see what they were looking at when her Miles softly chuckled, leaning down to whisper, "they're looking at you kid."

A crimson colored blush rose across her cheeks but quickly vanished as her foot made contact with cold, hard ground.

People parted like the red sea for them to walk through, offering kind, warm smiles, bowing lowly as they passed.

An announcer bellowed their names as the doors to the Great Hall swung openly slowly to reveal them to everyone gathered.

Connor smiled, taking in the sight of Charlie. He could never get over how striking she was.

Bass on the other hand was a different story. His eyes sparkled as he drunk in the sight of her, from the very crown of her head, to her tippy toes. As his gaze ghosted over her body, she could feel every fiber of her body igniting, until his eyes finally settled on hers. Then she felt her body spontaneously combusting.

Everyone else faded away, it was only those two. Luckily no one else seemed to notice as he cleared his throat.

The long table usually in the middle of the Great Hall was removed to make room to dance. The unused fireplace, usually collecting dust, sprung to life, a fire crackling inside. The orange and yellow flames danced higher and higher, in sync with the rhythm of the music flowing through the room.

Everyone was in good spirits, flitting about the room, mingling, making conversations, pretending they weren't all vapid and selfish, only seeking out gossip from one another.

Nevertheless, it made Charlie smile to see how much fun everyone was having.

"It's customary," she almost jumped out of her skin when she heard his voice beside her, "for the future daughter-in-law to dance with the King."

Not turning her head, she announced, "I'm never heard of such a rule."

Her brisk, cold voice surprised him. It was such a change from her attitude earlier, "fine maybe it's not a rule per say, but I am the king so I can make it one."

"Yes," she dryly commented, "you're very good at making people do things they don't want to do."

His eyes grew distant, "I am. I'm even better when I'm with your father."

At that comment he finally got a reaction from her as her mouth went slack. However, he didn't allow her a retort, taking her hand in his, whisking her out onto the dance floor, body colliding into his.

On instinct her body hummed in appreciation, adrenaline coursing through her veins upon being this close to his warm, firm body. She moved back slightly from his embrace.

Bass was having none of that, arm snaking around her, hand splaying across her lower back, pushing her body further into his so that there was no gap or space between them.

She allowed him to glide them around the room, her vision blurring as she chose to focus her eyes on his constant face instead. There was no denying her physical attraction to him, but her mother's words haunted her mind every time she let her guard down. She pictured this man, setting fires to homes, slaughtering people with the same hands holding her right now.

When the images began to be too much for her, she all but tore herself from his embrace, subtly so no one else but him would notice.

Bowing slightly, she faked a smile, turning her back on him. She had to get some air, fast. She tugged at her dress, feeling as though the oxygen was being sucked from her lungs.

Pushing past the doors of the Great Hall, she slipped passed the guards without them noticing, too heavily intoxicated to be of any real use tonight.

"What the hell was that," his booming voice followed her outside on the balcony where she was leaning against the stone railing. It was so loud inside, no one could hear him practically yelling.

Instantly her body snapped up, "I just needed some air, I was tired of dancing."

The pathetic excuse got caught on the end of her tongue.

"You're lying, again. You're acting cold and distant, in fact," his eyes widened in realization, "you're acting like your mother."

He spat the insult at her, coming to stand at her side, commanding presence looming over her.

"I am not my mother," she snarled.

A humorless chuckle escaped his lips, "you could've fooled me Charlotte, you're acting just like her. Same facial expressions and all. So out with it, what did the bitch do?"

"Don't call my mother a bitch. You don't get to pass judgement about people, not after all you've done," she pointed an accusatory finger at him.

His eyebrow rose high on his face, "so we're back to this? Yes I'm a horrific monster," his lip curled as he stepped closer to her body, and upon instinct, she took two giant steps back. It was no use; he followed her, his legs striding confidently towards her until her back pressed against the stone column.

"I've done terrible things I can't take back, but I'm not the same man anymore—"

"But aren't you? You were willing to chop a boy's hand—"

"Because he was stealing," he stressed, noticing it didn't change Charlie's expression or mind.

"There's always a reason to be made, a validation. I mean, all in the name of order and control right?"

Throwing her hands up dramatically, he must've thought she was going to start swinging again because his hands went around her wrists, pining her arms to the wall.

Using his body weight to anchor himself against her thrashing body, he leaned his lips down to her ear, smiling when he felt her body tremble.

"That's not the real problem though is it Charlotte? The real problem is that, even though I'm this horrendous, god-awful monster, you can't seem to stop wanting me."

He placed a soft kiss behind her ear.

"You can't seem to stop picturing yourself beneath me as I work you over in pleasure again, and again, and again."

She shoved, ignoring the feel of him hardening against her lower stomach, "you disgust me. I'm getting married to your son, this party tonight is for my engagement to your son."

Saying the words 'your son' over and over again had no impact on him because he knew she didn't mean it. Her words had no weight behind them.

Instead he continued on, releasing one wrist, using his free hand to stroke her thigh, disappearing beneath her dress.

"You're upset because you want me as I am, even knowing all the horrible shit I've done. The destruction I've caused," his tongue traced the shell of her ear.

"You're mad because you shouldn't want me—"

"I don't want you," she gritted her teeth so tight she was sure they were going to explode when his fingers grazed the fabric of her undergarments. It took every bit of willpower she had not to thrust up into his touch, but she would not give him that satisfaction.

She wasn't but so strong, she found that out when his fingers shoved her garments aside, slipping one finger into her hot, young, dripping wet sex.

Biting down hard on her lip, she tasted copper flowing into her mouth, squeezing her eyes shut tightly.

"Because as much as you don't want to admit it, it makes you wet to think about me like that. Rough…brutal…savage," with every word he stroked her, long and deep, watching the way her lips parted, breath coming out in a needy pant.

Dragging his nose along her neck, he bent his head down to suck lightly on her exposed collarbone, paying special attention to the base of her neck.

"You can say you're marrying my son all you want Charlotte," the other hand securing her wrist slid down to her hip, clutching on tight as he inserted another finger into her tight pussy.

She couldn't stop the moans from flowing when he added a third finger, stretching her further than she had ever explored, even in her own masturbation.

He crooked his fingers, reaching deep within her, hitting that sweet g-spot with every caress, "but we both know he'll never be able to satisfy you the way you want."

Bucking up into his hands, he bit down on her neck, lavishing the wound with kisses, "the way you need."

Taking it a step further, he brought his mouth to her parted lips, plunging his tongue inside her mouth, as she hesitantly darted hers out to meet his.

Sucking her bottom lip into his mouth, he pulled it between his teeth, gently tugging at it. All the while he continued his onslaught, her dress bunching up at his wrist.

Her leg lifted a little bit, coming to wrap around his calf without her control, giving him better access.

Moving his mouth, he trailed open mouth kisses down her neck, stopping just above the curve of her breasts, "the way I can."

With those final words, he swiftly removed one finger, using his other two to continue his ministrations, while his thumb pressed roughly against her tingling bundle of nerves until she exploded into a million pieces.

Smothering her cries with his mouth, he let her finish fucking his hand, riding out her last wave before he removed his fingers from her soaking heat.

Charlie's legs almost gave out as she stumbled back, using the wall to brace herself.

"Next time you want to tell me how much of a cruel, worthless monster I am, make sure the person you're really mad at, isn't yourself."

Once he was gone, she pulled he dress down, straightening herself and regaining her composure. Putting a hand on her forehead, she went back to her spot on the balcony, glancing out at the vast, open, empty space before her.

What the hell had she just done?

She had no idea, but whatever it was, she was 100% sure she wanted to do it again.


	18. Chapter 18

His body collided roughly with Miles', almost back at the entrance to the Great Hall.

"Where's the fire Bass?"

Still burning brightly inside me after my inappropriate romp with my future daughter-in-law and your daughter.

He wanted to say, but he didn't say anything. Choosing to ignore the question and push past him instead.

Miles' hand shot out, locking on his elbow, "are you okay Bass?"

"Yeah Miles," Bass grumbled out, hoping that would satisfy him enough for one night, but he should've known better. Miles always like to stoke at the fire until it burst into raging flames.

"Listen, I'm glad I caught you alone. I wanted to have a word with you about Charlie."

Luckily Miles removed his hand before casting that anchor; Bass' body froze, suddenly hit with the memories of earlier outside, the way she tightly contracting around his fingers, and the way her fiery eyes rolled into the back of her head.

"What about her?"

Miles ran a hand through his hair and Bass knew exactly what it meant. He knew every nervous tick Miles had. Hell, he knew everything about Miles in general.

"Are you no longer satisfied with our agreed upon terms? Are you here trying to retract your offer?"

Miles snapped his eyes up to meet Bass' sheepishly. "No I'm not here to renegotiate or withdrawal. I just—I'm not sure Charlie is ready to be married yet Bass, don't you think it could be put on hold for just a while longer perhaps? I'm sure Connor—"

"You're sure Connor what?"

Bass' fury interjected, cutting Miles off. "What, all of the sudden Connor isn't suitable enough for Charlie? Is that it? Because he's my son?"

Miles' eyes widened in shock at his outburst, "that's not what I mean, nor what I said."

Bass chuckled humorlessly, "you didn't have to say it Miles. Everyone else has made their sentiments towards me known, especially that foul wife you have."

Miles sighed, not even bothering to defend Rachel. "Look Bass, Rachel is Rachel. I don't see why you her outspoken, opinionated nature bothers you now. Whatever she said just put it aside. You know how Rachel is—"

"I don't give a damn about Rachel."

He pointed a stern finger in Miles' direction, "but I will not tolerate someone going around my castle, spreading malicious lies about me. Especially not her. I am the King here. I make the rules."

"I'm quite positive no one pays any attention Rachel anyway, but the only person she would've said anything to is Charlie, and she won't believe—"

Bass threw his head back, incredulous laughter ripping through his body. "Oh but she does Miles. Rachel has done a fantastic job of infiltrating the fortress of Charlie's mind, like she does with everyone else."

"To be fair you're not helping the cause. Throwing out orders left and right, barking at her, locking her in a dungeon—"

"Because she was being disobedient. And I'm the King, it's my job to give orders," he adamantly protested.

"She isn't a horse you can break Bass, she's never going to be obedient. I thought you of all people would've known that when we first agreed upon her marrying Connor. You asked if she was anything like me, and I confirmed she was my spitting image, temper and attitude alike. Did you really think you were going to make her listen, by using force nonetheless?"

He threw his hands up, "so what, I'm supposed to let her walk all over me and undermine me in front of my subjects?"

Miles started shaking his head. "No of course not. I would never suggest you do that—"

"Then what else is there to do Miles? Tell her my side of the story? Should I mention how you got Connor's mother killed because you were selfish and greedy, and I was young and stupid, following your every move no matter if it seemed a good idea. Tell her you thought it a good idea to attack a neighboring kingdom in order to expand our ruiling terrority."

Miles' eyes shifted as Bass solemnly snorted, "that's what I presumed. You don't want her to know all the bad shit you've done, and I can't tell my side of the story without exposing that part of your past. So I have to sit here and suffer, while everyone else looks at me like I'm the only one with a guilty conscience and blood on my hands. I have to play the role of the bad guy, while you get to play the hero, saving the day, as usual."

"I should just tell her the truth, regardless of what you want, because she deserves to know, because I deserve to clear my name, which has been dragged through the mud by your loathsome wife. And I shouldn't have to be the villain of the story forever," Bass mused aloud.

Miles panicked for a moment upon hearing Bass' declaration. Not necessarily because he didn't want Charlie to know, well he really didn't, but because it should come from him, not Bass. He was her father.

"It wouldn't do me any good to tell her," Miles' internal monologue got cut short when Bass began again.

"She hates me and probably wouldn't believe a word I said, even though I've given her no reason not to. If anything, I'm probably the only one who's been completely honest with her, but her mind is made up it seems. I believe she hates me more than Queen Bitch," Bass heartily laughed, though there was no humor behind it.

He honest to God believed Charlie harbored hatred towards him, despite her apparent physical attraction to him.

You could be physically attracted to a person, and still hate them all the same. It has been said the only thing stronger than love is hate.

"Please inform the guests I have retired for the night, and thank them all for coming," Bass spun on his heels, intending to make a quick exit to his chambers.

Miles' voice called out before he could go too far, "what about the announcement? What about Connor?"

"The guests were unaware of the reason for the festivities, you know how those royals are. They're only here for the ale and the entertainment."

Bass slowly turned back around, smirk sliding into place, "you can explain to Connor the reason for the postponed announcement. I was perfectly content going through with it."

Lie lie lie. A boldfaced lie, but now at least he could blame it on Miles. For once he could use Miles as his scapegoat, draping the blame over him.

He didn't give Miles any time to rebuke or continue their discussion, heels snapping together loudly as he all but stomped in the direction of his chambers. All he wanted to do for the rest of the night was drink himself into a drunken stupor.

And so he did as the party continued on in the Great Hall, all smiles and laughter could be heard throughout the castle. Even coming from Charlie herself who, after their brief lover's spat, or whatever it was, had returned, intent on enjoying the rest of the night.

She wasn't even surprised to see Miles strolling into the Hall by himself awhile later; she assumed Bass went to lock himself away for the rest of the evening. Just like he did every time there was a problem or a spat between them.

Quickly, he made an announcement to the rest of the party, and as soon as he opened his mouth, smile gracing his face, Charlie held her breath. She assumed this would be the moment that would forever tie her to Connor.

Brows furrowing in confusion, she let out a long sigh of relief, glad for Connor's obliviousness, when all her father had to say was the continue with the celebrations.

She danced, pushing aside all of her worries and troubles, catching her father's eye every once and awhile, smiling as his face beamed with pride. It felt nice to feel free, even though it was only briefly, and even though what happened earlier kept creeping back into her mind.

Charlie was in such good spirits; she happily obliged Connor with a few dances, finding him to be a rather good dancing companion. Not to say he was particularly skilled in the art of dance, but he was fun. He made it enjoyable every time his feet tripped up, or accidentally stepped on her toes.

She tried not to think about Bass and the way his hands felt on her as they danced. Comforting, yet commanding, in control at all times. She especially shoved the memories of his rough hands in between her silky thighs, working her into a puddle.

Spinning around, Charlie felt a light twinge on her other arm, the one not connected to Connor's hand.

Pulling her arm back, she saw a large, angry red gash forming, blood trickling out. Cradling her arm in towards her body, her eyes scanned the area out of reflex, trying to see who the culprit was, but shook those thoughts out of her head immediately.

She was sure it was just an accident.

"Is everything alright Charlie?"

Looking up, she met Connor's concerned face.

She nodded, "yes quite alright, I must've caught my arm on something sharp during the spin. One never knows what's hidden in those ghastly dresses women are forced to wear."

Lifting her arm up, she showed him the mark as worry set in on her facial features, "that looks ghastly, should I get anyone to assist you in cleaning the wound before any type of infection sets in?"

His eyes immediately started to look for the closest knight, landing on Baker's form, laughing with a few other men surrounding him.

Charlie impatiently tugged on his arm, "no, no that's nonsense. I'm perfectly capable of doing it myself. If you'll just excuse me for a few moments."

Connor smiled, nodding and extending an arm out for her to make her exit. She was able to hid her arm underneath her other one, as she passed by people, smiling towards them. They of course were filled to the brim with ale and could care less. Charlie could've been riding a dragon out and they wouldn't have noticed.

Despite the sounds of joy and laughter filling the usually empty, hollow walls of the castle, Bass felt miserable. Locked away in his chambers, drowning his sorrows in a bottle of particularly potent wine, given to him as a gift earlier this evening. His vision became hazy, a tingling, dull feeling washing over his body until he felt nothing. He felt numb.

He thought about sending for Duncan several times, but opted against it ultimately. Mostly because he was too drunk to move, and because everyone was downstairs, enjoying themselves, as they should be. As he should be doing.

A light squeak came from the door, eyes opening as he squinted, trying to make out the figure, but it was no use. All he could see was a hooded dark colored cape. He was far too drunk. Maybe he really did send for Duncan. No one else let themselves into his room without knocking or announcing their present.

"Not in th'mood," he managed to slur out as the figure stepped closer to him, but as soon as his ass hit the stone ground, he realized it couldn't possibly be Duncan.

He grunted, feeling a hand collide with his jaw, shifting his neck to the side.

Bass was seriously starting to regret drinking this much. He could barely even fight back, but he gave the person hell as much as his lifeless body would allow.

Maybe this was fate. Maybe this was his karma. Whatever it was, he felt for sure he was going to die in that moment, catching a glimpse of a silver sword, reflecting in the candlelight.

He felt his head ricocheting against the floor, black encroaching, surrounding him as his eyelids drooped.

He waited, and waited for the feel of a sword, plunging into his body, but he felt nothing. He heard nothing for what felt like hours, though it was probably only minutes, until a loud voice boomed, "seize her!"

Bass couldn't open his eyes, the throbbing pain too much to bear. He could only barely hear a meek voice, squeaking out in protest.

"I didn't do this. I came in and found him like this."

Charlie struggled against the iron grip of one of the knights whose name she didn't know. He wasn't one of the regular knights she had grown accustomed to. These men were hired as extra security, some good they were doing, downstairs getting drunk while a real problem was occurring right under their noses.

"What's the meaning of this?"

Baker rushed into the room, shoving the door open to find Charlie thrashing about and Bass lying half unconscious on the ground.

"We caught her red handed, sword in hand and the King's body on the ground." The knight smiled in triumph, as though he single handedly saved the life of the King of Kairos.

"Do you know who she is?"

Baker indicated towards Charlie with a jerk of his thumb. The young knight's face flushed with embarrassment.

"That's Princess Charlotte Matheson, and I would suggest you release her. I'm certain there is a perfectly reasonable explanation—"

"I'm not under your command, sir," the boy declared, trying to appear stern.

"I was hired as an extra measure by the King himself. I only take orders from him. Besides, there can be no other explanation for this. I found the princess holding the sword, looking down at the King. If that isn't enough for a conviction, I don't know what is."

"Well with those deductive reasoning skills I'm surprised you weren't hired immediately by the council. There was another person in here you dim witted fool." Charlie roughly attempted to pull her body away, but all it seemed to do was cause his grip to tighten.

"I saw no other person upon entering—"

"That's because he left," she sneered.

"Which way did he go?"

This time it was Charlie who appeared embarrassed. She had been so caught up in making sure Bass was okay, everything else, all rational and procedure fell to the side. His chambers had many different places in which the person could've exited. There was his private entrance, separate from the one leading to the outside hall, and multiple windows adorning the expansive room. She couldn't say for certain in which direction the person went, and Bass' life was at stake, she couldn't make up an answer.

Her silence didn't go unnoticed, but what were her options? If she lied and they found out, she would look guilty. If she said she didn't know she would look guilty. Either way the sword swung, she looked guilty unless they found the person.

"Besides," the young, agitating knight guy continued, "she has a fresh wound on her arm, how else could you explain that?"

"I was cut during the dance—"

The guy's eyes twinkled in amusement, convinced she was lying, "cut…during a dance? I've never heard such a story."

Charlie snarled at his mockery, baring her teeth at him. "That's because it's not a story. You can ask Prince Connor, he'll confirm my story. I left to clean the wound before it got infected. As per his instructions."

Connor shook his head from where he appeared at the entryway. "I'm so sorry Charlie. I don't remember you getting cut."

What was he saying? She did a double take in his direction, not even believing the words that were spewing from his mouth. Maybe he was slightly confused because of the whole ordeal.

Her jaw dropped open, breath rushing out of her chest, "what are you—what are you talking about? You heard me."

"All I heard over the commotion was you saying something about women hiding things in their dresses and asking to be excused for a moment."

He not only heard her, he's the one who told her to go and clean herself up. Why was he lying? And doing a damn good job for that matter. His face looked green as though disgusted by the idea of his future wife trying to murder his father.

"'S going on?"

Bass' groggy voice caused them all to turn their heads in his direction.

Letting out a grunt, he opened one eye slightly, keeping the other one securely closed.

Upon seeing Charlie's pained expression, being physically held captive by a knight, Bass' eyes shot open as wide as they would allow. Whatever was in his system was doing a damn good job of keeping him almost inarticulate and unintelligible, but Bass never stayed down long.

He tried sitting up, but the room started to twirl, "'s the meaning of this?"

"Sir, we found her in here, trying to assassinate you—"

"Bass, I would—"

He cut her off, "she was the only person in here when I arrived, after hearing something outside your door. The princess was kneeling next to your limp body, sword in one hand, wound on the other arm."

Bass' head started to spin even more, if that was possible. There was absolutely no way Charlie could've done this.

Charlie couldn't have done this.

There was absolutely no way.

Could she?


	19. Chapter 19

They called for the medicine man immediately to rid Bass' stomach of whatever was left in there churning around. It was a good thing it had been more concentrated, any more potent and it could've had damaging effects on Bass' internal organs.

It was too soon to say he felt as good as new, but he could at least think a little clearer and his eyes weren't coated in a fog. His head still hurt like a son of a bitch though. Luckily Charlie, or whoever the hell, didn't cause too much damage.

Could it have really been Charlie? Really?

She was strong, yes; he saw that occasionally and was on the receiving end of one of her punches before, there was no denying she could pack a punch. She was fast, and smart. He would give her all of that, but could she have really gotten the upper hand. Against him? He had years of experience, and was a damn good fighter. Plus he had weight on his side, much more than Charlie could say.

Maybe it was just his ego saying all of these things because he really didn't want to admit that it could've been her. He was drunk beyond comparison. Maybe it was possible.

She had motive, she very well could've hated him. And though she complied readily with him outside on the balcony, he could tell she was less than pleased when he left.

But mad enough to try and kill him? That seemed a bit extreme even for her.

"Sir," the knight's voice prompted him back into the present," what shall I do with her?"

"Do with her?" Miles' angry voice yelled. "You can remove your hands from her is what you can do, before you no longer have any."

Someone had to stay downstairs and entertain the guests after the news was dropped on them, but after Miles didn't see Charlie for awhile, he started to get worried. Kingly duties be damned.

His lip curled into a snarl, the boy flinching back for a moment, before growing a backbone. "I'm afraid I only answer to one king, and that isn't you."

"I don't give a damn who you answer to. I'll cut your miserable tongue out so you can't answer to anyone."

Charlie's blood went cold. She never heard his talk like this. It was a little intimidating.

Bass groaned, barking out orders. "Secure all of the exits. Send a search party out to excavate the woods and surrounding areas to make sure no one left the castle grounds." He turned to Connor, "please assist Queen Rachel in maintaining order through the Great Hall while Miles and I get to the bottom of this."

Hesitation, and something that resembled resentment, passed quickly over Connor's eyes. In the end, he simply nodded his head and promptly exited, though it looked as though he was going to put up a fight.

"And the girl," the young knight prompted again.

Miles dug his nails so deep into the palms of his hands, blood started to gather under the nail bed.

"If you utter one more worthless breath, I'm going to slit your throat where you stand. Bass," Miles snapped, "tell him to remove his hands from Charlie. This is the last warning I'm going to give."

Regardless of his headache and earlier events, Bass couldn't help the fury rising within him. He was sick and tired of being told what to do by Miles.

"Need I remind you, you're in my castle Miles, not Longstead."

Miles' challenging eyes bore holes into Bass'. "I don't give a damn where I am Bass, tell him to take his hands off my daughter or so help me god—"

"You'll what," Bass stood, a little shakily form his chair, advancing towards him.

Miles met him halfway, none of the other knights even attempting to intervene between the two.

"If you throw her in the dungeon again, you'll be affirming to everyone you believe she did it. You're labeling her as an assassin, a killer, and sentencing her to death."

"I never said she did it, but I can't just let the only person who knows something go free. I can't have people thinking I play favorites or am lenient after someone attempted to kill me." Bass snapped his teeth together, never once glancing away from Miles.

Did he think Charlie 100% did it? Well, not entirely, not even a little bit. But what else was he supposed to do? Let her go and make everyone think it was okay to attempt to kill him? That it wouldn't result in punishment or reprimanding?

He had to do something, and keeping her locked up for the time being was the only reasonable option he had. She would be safe down there. There was practically no way out, and no one ever went down there.

"Then let us go over the event in grave detail as you remember it. Perhaps there's something you missed," Miles offered up as a solution.

Charlie immediately began to open her mouth, believing the question was meant for her.

Miles however lightly shook his head, cutting her off before she even had the chance to begin. "Sorry kid, I'm going to have to ask you to remain silent during this. No interjections," his eyes silently pleaded with her, and though Charlie didn't like it, she nodded.

"Bass, what do you remember?"

"Drinking," he deadpanned.

Miles huffed at his apathetic tone. "Yes but what were you drinking?"

Growling, Bass swung his hand out to land on the bottle of wine, perched on his desk. "I think it has been established that there was something unusual in the wine." It pained his to say those words because it was an embarrassment. It made him out to be foolish, how could he not have known? Though to be fair there was neither pungent odor nor repulsive taste evident in the wine.

Still Miles could tell Bass was waging war within himself, so he directed the line of questioning in a different direction. "Do you remember if you fought back? Anything about the person? Physicality, bodily, any distinct smells or sights?"

Reeling from the concoction of wine, the last thing he needed was all of these questions fired at him. Nevertheless, Charlie's life was on the line, just as much as his was. He took a deep breath, inhaling oxygen slowly into his lungs before he could begin processing the details.

"Yes I fought back," Bass declared. "But I can't say for certain I was able to cut anyone with the state I was in."

"I remember a dark hooded cape flashing about in my vision. The door opened with a squeak," he paused momentarily. That could either mean the person was too weak to open the door, or the way it was opened so lightly could've meant they possessed a great deal of strength. It had to be the latter; the door was made of solid metal.

Charlie seemed to be thinking the same thing Bass was. The door. It was made of some of the sturdiest sheets of metal money could buy. And metal was dense, allowing hardly any sound to pass through.

She kept her mouth shut, thankful for Bass who addressed the young knight instead.

"You said you heard commotion? Was it loud?"

He nodded his head, "yes your highness. It was rather loud."

"That door is metal. If you heard something it would've had to have been a quiet whisper almost."

The young knight's face remained blank, "I cannot say for certain the decibel of the sounds coming from behind your door. I only know that it sounded like unusual clattering about. And tis better to be safe than sorry."

That sounded like a load of cow manure if you asked Charlie, and no one else seemed to buy it either.

"Sir," their heads turned to where Baker had rejoined the interrogation. "We've managed to secure to exits and find the person responsible for this. Shall I call for the executioner or the man of law?"

Bass had already begun shaking his head. "No that won't be necessary, I won't be requiring either. I will be handling the matter for myself, it seems you can't trust anyone these days."

He didn't mean for his gaze to skirt over to where Charlie was standing, but involuntarily it did, sending a wave of shock to her very bones. The shock rippled down her spine, chilling bones in its wake, though he didn't look as though he meant any of it.

Baker nodded, "as you wish sir. He will put into a holding cell immediately."

Once Jeremy had exited, offering a sympathetic, but hopeful look to Charlie, Miles stepped closer to Bass. "I think it's very foolish of you to go about handling this yourself. Look at you, you're practically dead on your feet Bass. Interrogations are hard enough when you're mentally and physically up for the task."

"Which is exactly why I'm not going about it alone." He fixated his eyes into Miles' as recognition swept across his features. "You're going to assist me. You know a thing or two about the art of torture."

Charlie couldn't help the shudder that passed over her skin when Bass' low, menacing words sliced through her. At this point, she wasn't surprised by any of it.

Miles looked as though he wanted to protest, but closed his mouth once he followed Bass' gaze. He was looking at Charlie, and Miles could read his thoughts. He couldn't refuse because this man knew something that would clear her name, exonerate her. That in itself was enough motivation, not to mention the fact that the person had cowardly fled and left a young princess to stand for his crime. That made Miles' blood boil.

"What shall we do with the girl, your highness, while you question the suspect?" It was perfectly constructed so that the young knight could adamantly display his sentiments, without outright saying he believed this 'prisoner' wasn't the culprit.

Bass gritted his teeth every time the young man talked. How could he have hired just an arrogant and pompous knight? Still it was a good point, she couldn't be allowed to return to the festivities. And she couldn't stay with the knight here in his chambers, mostly because Bass didn't trust the knight as far as he could throw him.

"She won't be put in the dungeons." Miles affirmed, crossing his arms over his chest in challenge.

"Well if you have a better suggestion, please inform me. Otherwise her only other option is to stand witness during the torture, and somehow I don't think you'd be too pleased to see that," he looked over to Charlie, talking directly to her for the first time.

The truth was, she didn't. She didn't want to see someone painfully tortured, extracting information from his limp, lifeless body. She didn't want to see her father be the one to do it. She didn't want to see Bass conduct the torture either. But most of all, she didn't want to be placed in the dungeons again, left alone.

Miles started to protest, but Bass held up a hand. "I'll let Charlotte decide, but those are the two options. That's the only way I know how to be just, fair, and sensitive to your request Miles."

Charlie's quiet voice rang out, "I'll go." Dropping her head, she said nothing else, feeling defeated. If she was stronger she would've just chosen to await in the dungeon, but the silence was suppressing, deafening, and cruel.

Bass motioned for her to be released, snarling a bit when the young knight didn't look as though he wanted to comply.

Once she was free, her head snapped up to Bass' immediately before going over to where her father stood. He didn't look at her as he turned his back, going towards the door.

Bass however got a good glimpse at her arm. Turning to one of the knights on guard, he snapped, "Question everyone at the party. I want to know if anyone saw what happened to Princess Charlotte's arm. And if you find the perpetrator, take him outside and execute him."

He turned back to her, waiting for her feet to scurry across the floor, trailing behind her father down towards the dungeons.

Her mind started to play flashes of memories as she walked. Remembering the smell of death and lifelessness that floated through the stale dungeon air. The feel of the stagnant, chilly, frightening air that ghosted across her skin. It all hit her, overloading her senses as she followed behind. She could perfectly remember the torture devices that infiltrated her mind the first time she was there.

She didn't want to look at the person in the chair, afraid it would feel too real, but she couldn't help her curious eyes. Panning up the man's body, her eyes settled in on his fixated gaze, staring blankly ahead.

He never once answered any question asked of him. Not even something as basic and simple as his name, which infuriated Bass enough to send a punch to the guy's face, blood spurting out.

Charlie winced the first time his fist made contact with the fragile frame of the guy, but after that she held her tongue and repressed every shudder and flinch that threatened to spill onto her body.

After a few minutes of relentless punches, they switched to different tactics. A wooden circular object was exposed and clamped around the guy's neck, forcing him to hold his staggering head up or face the piercing pain of wood being jabbed into the column of his neck. His head wobbled, wood breaking the surface of the skin as blood trickled down, but neither Bass nor Miles noticed.

"What's your name?" Miles took over, seeing Bass waiver a bit, before standing perfectly erect.

"C-c-claren-ce," the guy's voice broke on every letter painfully pronounced from his dry, scratchy throat.

"Clarence, and why are you here Clarence?"

"For p-party," he choked out, refusing to say anything else.

Miles was losing his patience quickly. Nothing seemed to be working, not fast enough for results; he was never one for patiently waiting. "Fetch me the pilliwinks," he barked at one of the knights, hovering by the door.

Charlie's blood curdled. She knew exactly what that was, a thumbscrew, though she had never seen it in person nor used.

Immediately one returned with a device used for crushing the fingers and toes of the accused. This one was smaller than others she had been told about, those were capable of snapping elbows and kneecaps. She was even told once of one big enough for a head to be crushed. Now was not the time to be thinking of that though.

The man's shoes were removed, chucked aside as his big toe was placed snugly between the device as Miles bent down.

"Why were you here?"

The man said nothing.

Ever so slowly, Miles began twisting the clamp, not once batting an eyelash when the man hissed out in pain. He stopped the ministration. "Why were you here?"

Again he started, not stopping until the screw made contact with the toe, crunching loudly as the sound carried around the room, surrounding them with his cries. The nail of his toe snapped lightly under the pressure.

"My company wa-ass requested," the guy bellowed out.

"By who?"

When he said nothing, Miles started again, twisting and twisting, the pressure building up inside until the man snapped, screaming out when blood started to pool and the bones of his big toe collapsed.

Charlie looked away momentarily, repressing the bile inching its way up her throat. Bass got a chance to look at her while her back was turned. There were no other indications of her struggling, besides her retreated back. She was a lot stronger than anyone gave her credit for, but still not strong enough to kill.

The man refused to answer anything else, forcing Miles to move on to his other big toe, then start going down the line, one by one, until Bass had enough. It was exhausting watching and hearing the guy whine and whimper. His head had about all it could handle.

"Enough, I can't take anymore of this pathetic display." He stepped in, relieving Miles of his duty, which he was grateful for.

Torturing and interrogation took a lot out of a person, but it also brought out a lot in a person. It magnified and amplified all their bad qualities, bringing them to the surface. He did what was necessary for his daughter's safety, but wouldn't everyone say the same of the things they did, the crimes they committed. There could always be an excuse or explanation that would rationalize the action, but to what extent?

Removing his sword from its sheath at his side, Bass made small, deliberate incisions along some of the major arteries, blood splattering to the ground, collecting like puddles of rain in a freshly dug moat.

Charlie turned back around once Bass took over. She thought it would be easier to see him carry out the rest of the inquisition, but it wasn't any easier. If anything it was harder. Bass was different; she was always on opposite sides of the drawbridge when it came to her feelings towards, and about him.

Once a sufficient amount of blood had been drained, leaving the man just lucid enough to feel every little thing, but not enough to resist, Bass spoke again. "Who requested your company? I'm a very impatient man, but for you I'd be willing to stand here for eternity and watch as you slowly regain consciousness only to have it ripped away like flesh from your bones. Death will seem sweet before I'm done with you. It'll seem a merciful act, which you would gladly beg for, and I might be more compassionate if something useful came out of your mouth. Other than pathetic moans and shrills."

The man said nothing.

"Suit yourself." Bass unbound the ropes, Miles instantly moving towards him to help maneuver the guy onto a long wooden tabletop. His body started convulsing as they strapped a restraint around his midsection, ankles, and wrists. Still he continued to thrash about, muttering loud moans of protests, screaming about how he didn't know anything.

"Send for the lead sprinkler," Bass gruffly yelled out.

This was something Charlie had no knowledge about. The only way she was able to access information about torture was from word of mouth through the knights, but they weren't always the most sociable bunch. Nor did they get the impression that they were allowed to release all of this revolting information to Charlie, being a princess and all. And Aaron definitely wasn't any help in this department. Their lessons skipped right over torture; Aaron was barely able to stomach a splinter.

A knight came back with an object and a container of what Charlie assumed was the liquid lead. Stream rose from the liquid, bubbles popping erratically as the container was placed gently upon the ground.

Slowly, Bass allowed the liquid to sprinkle down from the device in his hand, landing on the guy's bare skin. The first time it made contact his body shot up as though possessed by a demon, lead scorching his skin as it slid down his body.

Bass' eyes twinkled, reflecting the glow of the lead as he watched it drip onto the flesh, eroding it away. "Who sent you?"

The onslaught continued with every unanswered question, cries growing louder and louder.

Blood came seeping out of the man's teeth from where he had practically bitten his whole tongue off. "Even if…I told you…not believe me."

"The only way to find out is to tell me."

The object filled with the molten lead hovered over the guy's eye for a second, awaiting an answer. Charlie held her breath, silently praying for him to say something.

When it looked as though he wasn't going to answer, Bass let a few drops invade the pupil of his eye that was clamped forcefully open. His howls were so loud they shook the ground and the cavity of Charlie's chest as she felt it clench. Her breath came out in ragged, shallow puffs.

"Twas the princes…the P-p-rince."

"What?" Bass' voice barked out, staggering, sloshing a few drops of lead onto the guy. "Prince who? Prince Connor? You're telling me my son is the one who did this? You're lying and I will have you hanged, drawn and quartered. Then all those split body parts will be sent to every loved one you possess."

"Bass you can't kill the guy if you want answers."

He turned on Miles, letting the long object slap against the floor, barely dodging the lead. "I don't need anymore of his type of 'answers.' It's blasphemous, ignorant lies about my son—"

"You didn't have a problem convicting Charlie—"

Bass growled, "That's not true I never convicted her. Don't you dare manipulate my words Miles. I never outright accused Charlie. I said that I was king and had to do the just, right thing."

"Which would be to simply ask your own son." Charlie's voice slithered in, putting distance between their livid bodies.

Bass turned a stern finger towards her, "mind your tongue Charlotte."

"No," she shook her head, raising her chin in defiance. "I refuse to sit back and endure any more of this. You wanted a name and he gave you own, and now since you're not satisfied—"

"I'm not satisfied with lies," venom hit her in the face as he spat. His body encroached into her personal space, forcing her to back up against the perimeter of the cell.

"Connor lied," she suddenly blurted out. She continued when he looked at her curiously. "When he said that he didn't know I was cut during the dance. He did know. I don't know why he lied, but I also know it would make no sense for him to lie about a trivial thing such as that. The only thing it did was incriminate me further. I don't know why he did it, but neither do you, so the right thing to do would be to ask."

Bass grew tired of hearing her talk about it because she was right. Just because she was right though didn't make it any easier on him. He would have to interrogate his own son, all but asking if he was the only who wanted him dead. Of course, happened he done something similar with Charlie? He never came out and asked her, but he didn't automatically take her side either, which was what he should've done. His gut instinct told him immediately it wasn't Charlie. She looked like a viable candidate, but his gut told him it wasn't her. He didn't know if he could say for sure about Connor, and that tore at his weak heartstrings.

Striding past her, he didn't miss the way she shivered as his body grazed against hers.

"Send all the people away, thank them for coming, and send for Connor."


	20. Chapter 20

They waited. No one uttered a single word, not even the half alive guy on the table, breath barely forceful enough to expand his chest. Charlie had to strain her eyes to see if he was indeed still breathing, of course at this point, he would probably rather be dead.

"Is everything alright father? You sent for me?"

Bass' head snapped over to where Connor was standing, taking in the surroundings as his mouth formed a disgusted look.

"Things didn't go as expected and I thought it would be best coming from me that you hear the news. The man named Charlie as the assailant. My hands are tied. I'm sorry son." His voice broke on the last word; unshed tears collecting in his eyes. It took every ounce of willpower Bass could scrounge up to play this role.

He was excellent at putting on a show. Charlie would give him that. She didn't move, she didn't breathe, she didn't let one single sign show on her face that she was shocked beyond reason. But inside her heart rattled against her ribs in protest. What the hell was he doing?

Connor grimly nodded, gulping as he looked over at her. He only stared at Charlie for a few minutes before his shaky voice floated through the air. "I'm rendered speechless and utterly disgusted at the same time. We took you in and treated you like family, and this is the thanks we get. I was just starting to love you," longingly he peered into her eyes before she dropped her head.

Snapping his feet together, he spun on his heels before Bass called out.

"That's it? That's all you have to say upon finding out?" When Connor turned around, he had an unusual look in his eyes as though not understanding the question. "Because if it were me, I'd want all the details. All of the plan. Every excruciating step. How she went about it, how she cut her own arm during the dance, which you claim to have no knowledge of. Never mind that there's a slight tint of blood on your fingertips."

Connor couldn't control his eyes as they dropped towards his fingertips. Sure enough, there was a rosy, dull red color. How could he have been so stupid? He must've touched her accidentally.

His mouth opened on its own ready to invent all these preposterous ideas, but Bass swiftly silenced him.

"Because of your apparent lack of interest, it can only mean a few things. Either you don't care enough about an attempted assassination of your father and king, which is disheartening. Or that you are stupid and foolish and don't fear the same happening to you. Something that could've easily been prevented had you asked how she went about it so that future precautions could be made."

Bass took a step towards him. "The third explanation is my least favorite, but facts are starting to stack against you. You don't want to know how she did it, because you already know. You know how the plan unfolded…and you also know she wasn't behind any of it."

"I don't—"

For a minute, Connor looked distraught, and the sight made Bass' heart ache. Still he remained firm, "so which is it? Unless there's a possibility I missed, another explanation?"

"Yeah, the explanation is he wanted you dead." Charlie muttered under her breath, not aware that everyone's eyes were on her.

Connor snorted, moving his body closer to hers. "It figures a whore like you would speak out against me, taking the side of dear ol father."

Miles instantly sprang into action at the same time that Bass did, but he had a lot more at stake on the line. He loved his son, but there was also Charlie.

She however required no man to defend her. "I am not a whore," she sneered, standing toe to toe with him.

Connor bitterly chuckled, "ah, but you didn't deny the father part."

"What part?" She spat, genuinely confused by whatever he was trying to get at.

"The part where you're in love with him."

No one spoke. No one even breathed, this time Charlie had to check her own breathing to make sure she was still alive. Miles looked from Charlie to Bass, but no one paid him any attention. Hell, no one even looked away from Connor.

Bass stepped forward, "what are you talking about?"

"Don't act as though you don't know. You've been lusting after her since she first arrived. I'd be surprised if you hadn't already fucked her like the whore she is."

In a flash, Bass had Connor pressed up against the metal bars, head colliding as it bounced back.

"Call her a whore one more time," he breathed in his ear, "and I'll cut out your vocal chords. Do not test me."

He let go of Connor's tunic. "Please escort Princess Charlotte back to her chambers."

She wanted to argue that she wasn't a child he could send away when things took a drastic turn. That this was just as much about her as anyone. In fact, she was the target. She deserved to hear.

But once glance over towards her father shut her up. He locked eyes with her, confirming that he stood with Bass on this decision. She said nothing as she turned around, allowing herself to be lead away. Only casting a glance over her shoulder, peering at Bass' rigid form. She could see him practically trembling with rage.

Connor darkly chuckled once she was out of earshot. "Wow she must be really good because you've got it bad."

"Shut your ungrateful, infantile mouth before you make an even bigger fool of yourself."

"Why? Don't want me to embarrass myself or you in front of King Miles the Great?"

He jerked his head in the direction of Miles' stoic figure, chin clamped together tightly. He wanted to let Bass handle things because it was his son, but if he didn't stop talking about Charlie in such vulgar terms, he was going to kill him.

"What is your apparent problem with Miles?"

Connor humorlessly laughed, "My problem isn't with Miles. My problem is the demented friendship you two have. You put him before me—"

"So you're mad because I didn't get you enough hugs?" Bass cocked up one eyebrow.

"I'm angry because he has my mother's blood on his hands and yet you happily greet him as though he was a brother. You shake his tainted, guilt infested hand and smile as you're doing it."

Bass recoiled from the surprising revelation, as did Miles. Not many people knew about what actually happened.

"Where did you hear that?" Bass was the first one able to regain the use of their voice.

"It doesn't matter where I heard it, it's true isn't it?"

This time it was Miles that spoke. "It's true that I made some bad choices in trying to acquire another kingdom. It's true that my greed and selfish mistakes cost your mother her life. It's true that half of all the bad shit Bass was forced into was because of me. But it isn't true that I wanted any of that to happen. Emma was a wonderful person, and I cared for her. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't wish I could take it all back—"

"But you can't," Connor interjected. "The best thing for you to do would be to leave us alone, but dear ol father can't function without you it seems. You're like his crutch." Connor chortled, "although he's swapped you out for your lovely daughter it seems."

Bass roared, "I thought I told you to hold your tongue when it came to Charlotte."

Connor ignored him and just laughed. "Even the way you say her name, it's obvious how you want her. How you desire her in ways you shouldn't. It's pathetic; you're old enough to be her father, yet you pursue her. I can't have one thing to myself without one of the Mathesons' grubby hands latching out for a grab."

"The only pathetic person I see here is you. I've given you everything you could've possibly wanted and desired. I've made tough, hard decisions in order to ensure your rule as eventual King of this land—"

"But you don't even value my judgement nor opinion. You let the whore walk all over you and tell you how to—"

Bass' fist colliding with his jaw sent him flying backwards into the bars as he choked on his words. "Test my patience again and I won't be held responsible for my actions."

Connor struggled to regain his balance, using his hands to steady himself. "Even now you chose her over me. Tell me father, how did it feel to think she was actually the one who did it? The one who wanted you killed badly enough that she was willing to do it herself? How did it feel to think the one person you cared most for in the world, hated you?"

This was sick and twisted, even for Connor. His tone sounded as though he was getting off on the idea of putting a rift between the two of them. He wanted to know how much it pained Bass? How much it broke his goddamn heart to think even for the slightest second that Charlie could've possibly done it? He refused to answer any of those questions; he would not show his weakness to the enemy.

"Why?"

Connor rolled his eyes, "why what?"

Bass yanked him to a standing position by the collar of his tunic. "I want to know your motivation behind this. Why did you do it? And spare me the whiny undertones about needing fatherly affection and love. You clearly need more than that."

Connor raised one shoulder in a half shrug. "It's simple really. I grew tired of hearing about Miles all my life, always coming in second to him. You idolize and worship him more than you do your own son."

"Then why bring Charlie into this?" A grumble ripped through Miles' throat as he shot the question towards Connor.

But Connor never once looked at him when he spoke. "I wanted to hurt Miles and you at the same time, figured I could kill two birds with one stone this way. The only person you idolized more than Miles was Charlie. You immediately put her on this pedestal as a goddess or something. I just wanted to knock her off so that you wouldn't yearn for her as much as you did. It was obvious from the first day, though I foolishly thought maybe it would fade away. I didn't honestly think you would continue your pitiful little game. It disgusts me."

Stepping close to Connor's body, Bass' words hit him directly in his ear as he whispered. "I bet it would disgust you even more to know that she fervently played the game just as well as I did, and happily."

Taking a few steps back, he exhaled loudly, not able to take anymore of this. Instead he went in another direction. "There's been enough of that kind of talk. Now I want to know how you did it."

Connor's eyes twinkled in fascination. "Oh, that was rather complicated and took some time. You see," he placed his hands together underneath his chin, "I got the idea when I was visiting a town nearby Gallia just recently. One of those few days when Charlie couldn't be bothered with me, and you seemed slightly more irritating than usual." He shook his head, continuing on with the story before he got off topic again.

"There was this daft, nitwit fool I heard speaking hushed whispers in the streets about some woman assassin or vigilante of some sort. Of course the idiot had no idea she was a woman. How could one possibly make that mistake? It's not as though that can be easily hidden."

Connor rolled his eyes, "regardless of his stupidity, it intrigued me so I made him tell me everything he knew in grave detail. I even made sure to ask him here today incase something happened and you needed an extra push, although it didn't look as though you did. His tale put thoughts into my head about just how easy it would be to frame Charlie for an assassination attempt. Though the man said he didn't know what happened to the woman, she vanished apparently, but those were details that didn't matter. It didn't matter if she was or wasn't, I could mold her to be, pushing you to draw those conclusions for yourself. Plus she helped without even realizing. She's a strong capable woman who put on the pretense of hatred towards you. It was easy, almost too easy."

"Yes but, how did you go about finding someone to actually do the job for you?"

Connor waved his hand, "those are all boring semantics and irrelevant. You're forgetting the most important question of all."

Taking the bait, Bass hissed, "which is?"

"What was I going to do if you had actually been killed?"

His throat closed up, permitting no words from exiting as his body shook. That thought hadn't even crossed his mind, but apparently it was on Connor's.

"Don't you want to know?" Connor prompted again, egging him on.

Bass shook his head, balling his hands into fists at his side, but Connor didn't seem to care. One way or another, he was going to say.

"I was going to painfully mourn your body while taking over as King. Then I probably would've had Miles executed and pinned your death on him somehow." A gleam in his eye appeared as he looked towards Miles, then back at Bass. "And after all that, I would've taken Charlie as my wife, and fucked all remnants of you from her body."

Red filled Bass' eyes, drowning him in anger, wave after wave crashed into him allowing no time to recuperate. He was angered that Connor wouldn't have really felt sad. He was angered that he would've tried to blame Miles. But he was furious about the crude way he talked about Charlie. As though she were an object for his pleasure.

His fist shot out, smashing into Connor's chest, effectively causing him to double over, allowing Bass' knee to bounce off his face. Connor cupped his face as he slumped to the ground, landing with a harsh thud.

Bass said nothing as he stepped over him, addressing the guard instead. "It seems as though light has permitted his hatred to grow, so maybe it's best for him to spend some time down here in the darkness until he can be publically tried and justice be served."

Miles excited behind him, sending one last loathsome, but sympathetic look at Connor's crumbled up form.

"You're just going to leave me here? Father," he spat the word, but Bass was unaffected.

He watched as the door closed, ghost of a smirk on his face. "Believe me, this is me being merciful. If I don't leave now, the next step will be to skip a trial and have you publically hanged, drawn and quartered. And right now at this moment, I wouldn't even bat one eyelash. Son or not, I would revel in the sight of your bones being torn from your worthless body, listening for the snapping sound before air expelled from your lungs."

Bass had to bite the inside of his cheek in order to stop himself from saying anymore. He turned on his heels, quickly striding away as Miles slowly followed behind. There was nothing he could say, nothing he could do. He felt like part of it was his fault again, but this time Bass didn't blame Miles. He blamed himself. They climbed the staircase in silence.

Which was exactly how Charlie remained from the moment one of the knights escorted her to her room. All of the guests began shuffling out immediately, and she was informed that both her mother and brother had left for home. It had been far too much excitement for them, and they requested Miles come as soon as he was finished.

Typical of her mother, leaving without telling anymore and dragging poor Danny along with her. She even took Nora, which wasn't usual, but not surprisingly. Her mother never seemed to like the bond she shared with Nora.

A loud rap at her door startled her, body twitching in shock as she went to answer it. "Yes?"

Another new knight appeared. Charlie was getting a headache trying to keep up with all these new faces. She would be glad when things calmed and the dust settled.

"Sorry for the intrusion your highness, but your presence has been requested down in the dungeon where the interrogation is being held."

Immediately Charlie nodded, thinking that one of them changed their minds and came to their senses. It was a ridiculous decision to being with, but she was just glad to be included again. She wanted to know what really happened, though she had already started to piece together some of it.

After a few minutes of walking, they took an unexpected turn

"Are we not going to the dungeon?" Charlie's curious voice caused the knight to look over at her.

"Yes of course, the other way is just blocked with servants cleaning the area. Dances and festivities can be rather messy you know."

The wheels in her mind started to turn. "But this is the less direct way, plus the other path wasn't occupied at all during the dance. There would be no need to clean that area."

They turned a corner as the knight looked at her, smirk slipping onto his face. "You're more clever than they give you credit for. Pity I prefer my women silent and not asking me stupid questions."

Immediately she began backing up, opening her mouth to protest but something engulfed her face, darkness slowly surrounding her until her body went limp and numb.


	21. Chapter 21

"Bass—"

"Miles, you'll forgive me if I'm not in the mood to undergo a round of questioning at the moment. Fighting with your own son and leaving him to rot in the dungeon is a bit tiring."

He said nothing for a few moments, mindlessly following Bass' lead back into the main floor of the castle. "Alright, so be it, but you do realize we have important matters to discuss."

"Yes. I'm well aware, but do keep pointing it out every chance you get." He rolled his eyes, combing a hand through his hair in irritation. "I suspect Charlotte will want details about what happened. And knowing her, she won't rest until she's been given something." His feet rotated, pointing in the direction of Charlie's chambers before Miles' hand shot out, coiling around his elbow.

"Do you really think that's wise?"

Bass had no idea what he was referring to. Whether it had to do with his mental state after the interrogations, or if it had to do with Connor's resolute confession about Bass being in love with Charlie.

Regardless of where the root of the question lied, the tree that sprung from it was steady, unwavering, much like Bass was in that moment. He shook his head, tugging at his arm until Miles let his hand drop down by his side. "She'll want answers—"

"I can convey a message and give just as many answers as you can Bass." Miles started interjecting, not allowing Bass the opportunity to finish. If he really only wanted to provide Charlie with answers, then he should have no quarrels. If there was another reason, he knew Bass wouldn't back down.

"No. It should be me who tells her. It's my fault she's in this mess after all."

"Bass, you can't honestly believe that this—"

He started humorlessly chuckling. "I find it amusing how you've always been able to place the blame on me when it really wasn't my fault, but the one time it is you're quick to dismiss it." Two heartbeats passed before he blurted out, "I have to see her. To make sure she's alright."

Miles' face remained stoic, emotions becoming opaque, allowing no feelings to penetrate the blockade. He didn't argue nor deter him from going. He knew from the moment it passed through Bass' lips there was more to it than just wanting to give Charlie answers. He was seeking refuge in the only way he knew how, which was by seeing Charlie's presence. Miles couldn't blame him for finding Charlie a comfort, but that didn't mean he liked the situation. "Very well, I'll accompany you."

Bass didn't verbally answer, strutting down the hallway to Charlie's door, rapping lightly before pushing it aside and strolling through. His mouth instantly opened, to say what he wasn't sure, but it snapped shut when there was no sign of Charlie. "Stubborn, impatient girl," he muttered low under his breath. He should've guessed Charlie would take matters into her own hands and seek out information rather than patiently waiting. He even knew better than to send her away, but he couldn't watch the visible pain contort onto her delicate face.

Miles snorted, "excellent job your highness. It seems your way of trying to instill obedience in my daughter is working quite splendidly."

"Key word being 'your daughter' here," he snapped. "You couldn't control her any more than I could."

"No, but I guarantee I wouldn't have tried the methods you did."

"I should certainly hope not," he lowly muttered under his breath. Bass peeked his head around the corner, bellowing for a guard. Any guard who could tell him where to find Charlie's wonderingly curious self. Immediately he heard feet shuffling in the distance, clanking along the floor until a body materialized in front of him. "Fetch another guard and see if you can find the Princess. It seems she's wandered off…again."

The young knight nodded his head vigorously, spinning on his heels, running off only to be halted when Bass called out again.

"Have her escorted to the Great Hall."

"Yes your highness."

Miles fell into step behind Bass as they once again entered the Great Hall.

All remnants, all traces of earlier festivities and merriment vanished. Scrubbed away by the servants. The room was back to being lifeless, dull, empty. Just as it was before Charlie arrived. Upon the first time she entered the Great Hall, the room sprang to life, color splashing along the walls. Bass could remember almost seeing the murals unveiling themselves before her, cobwebs and dust dissipating into thin air. Now that her presence was removed it quickly fell back into the dark pit, shadows engulfing.

He didn't bother looking at Miles once he planted his ass onto the chair at the head of the table. One look would spark a conversation that Bass wasn't ready to have at the moment, and for some reason Miles didn't push the issue.

Impatiently Miles sat tapping his foot against the stone floor, sound pattering throughout the room. "How long does it take to find one girl?"

"One girl, not long. Charlie however is a different story."

There was no sense of apprehension or worry coming from Bass' tone or body language, mostly because he didn't know her as well as Miles. Bass spent most of the time chasing after Charlie's wandering self, never knowing where she was exactly or what she was doing. For him, it was nothing out of the ordinary.

Miles, however, felt differently. Of course he spent his fair share of time searching for Charlie, but he never worried because she was always with Nora. And there was never a time Charlie didn't hover close to him when there was something wrong. It was out of character for her to try and hide for this long. He suspected she would seek out information, but not far enough away to where she couldn't be easily found once they were through. Charlie was smarter than that.

After a few more rhythmic foot tappings, he slapped his hand on the table, shoving the chair backwards as he stood. "I'm going to look for her myself."

"Calm down Miles, does she not do this all the time at Longstead? Or just here because she finds it amusing to annoy me?"

Miles shook his head, "no, not like this. There's something not right Bass, I'm telling you."

"Maybe she just doesn't want to be found at the moment." Placing two fingers on his temple, he massaged the throbbing pain building.

"I know my daughter," he snapped, baring his teeth at Bass.

Once the speckles of anger dwindled down, Bass could see worry and anxiety all along the lines of Miles' face. He still wasn't convinced, but he had to admit it had been quite some time without any bit of news on her whereabouts. The castle was only so big.

Standing up, he swept his hand out, "lead the way."

Miles let out a puff of imprisoned air when Bass easily complied. Not that he needed Bass' permission to hunt for his daughter, but they worked better together.

Quickly striding out of the hall, his feet carried him along the empty corridors in search of the servants. Those were always the first people to ask, they thrived on secrets and rumors, especially when it was particularly juicy. To his dismay, no one had seen her, too busy wrapped up in cleaning and putting the castle back in order. Not even her lady Maggie had seen her for quite some time.

The young knight diverted their attention from the servants when he came running through the castle, panting. "Your highness," both Miles and Bass turned their heads. "There's been no sign of the Princess within the castle walls, nor along the outer perimeter."

"What do you mean there's been no sign of her? A person doesn't simply vanish."

Bass took control, stepping forward. "None of the other knights have seen her either?"

The young man shook his head. "No your highness. The majority of them assisted in escorting your guests from the castle. And the rest of them were…a bit too drunk on ale to be of any use, since they were only required to observe."

"What about Jeremy?"

"Knight Baker remained with the royals in the Great Hall after Prince Connor took his leave."

Bass hadn't been panicking before, but now it swept across his body like a trade wind, swirling around, causing his vision to become hazy. He couldn't help the bubbling anger that spilled over as he jerked the man forward by the front of his uniform. "I don't care how long it takes, not a single soul will sleep tonight until Princess Charlotte is standing before me. I want you to scour every nook, cranny, and surface of this entire castle, including the grounds. Spare no man, and the ones who are drunk better sober themselves quickly or I'll be forced to do it for them. I'll drain every single drop of ale from their blood if need be. Do you understand me?"

Shoving his Adam's apple down, the young knight nodded once, too afraid to open his mouth again.

Releasing the clenching hold on him, Bass roughly pushed at his chest. "Send for Baker to report to the Great Hall. Immediately."

Bass could feel the waves of anger rushing off Miles' trembling body when he faced him again. "I will see to it personally that she is found, trust me." He didn't wait for an answer, striding back in the direction they had came from earlier. He could barely form that sentence, let alone anything else at his point. And he knew Miles was barely holding it together as it was.

No matter what happened between them, Bass always knew when to take the brunt of the blow. He knew that drastic times called for drastic measures, and he wasn't afraid to slip back into that villainous role everyone cast him for. There would be no stone left unturned in efforts to find Charlie, and if there was something more malicious behind her disappearance, God save their souls. There would be no mercy spared.

He shook those thoughts from his head, needing it to remain clear. His body however was still quivering when he roughly flung the doors of the Great Hall open, Jeremy already waiting inside.

"What's going on? Clemson looked pale in the face, as if he had seen a ghost."

"Charlie's missing."

"What do you mean missing?"

"I mean, no one has seen her since I sent her away from the dungeon."

Baker couldn't mask the worry present on his face, taking in the disheveled sight of both Miles and Bass before him. He had served Bass for long enough to know it was something serious; he had never seen him like this. Jeremy had grown quite fond of Charlie since her time there, he felt instinctively very protective of her, and though he didn't always agree with torturous methods, this is the one time he wouldn't mutter a peep if they tore the village apart.

Which wasn't far from Bass' mind. "I'm going to have a word with my son."

Miles' head snapped over to him when he mentioned Connor. That was his first line of thought, but thankfully Bass drew the connection on his own without Miles having to.

"It seems only fitting that he would be behind anything, if plans had been made." He didn't reflect on the pain that sentence caused, falling back into his role as a leader quickly. "Baker, ride out and see if you can speak with any members of the royal family along their journeys home."

Jeremy nodded, "I'll send word if I find anything." Instantly, he scurried from the room, collecting his trustworthy companion Will along the way.

Bass turned to Miles once he was gone. "Go back to all of the servants, question every single one of them again and again. If one so much as produces a single fleeting gaze, bring them to the dungeon for further questioning. We'll start with everyone here before moving on to the townspeople." He had already started walking away when Miles yelled out.

"I want to find Charlie just as much as you do, more even, but I can't do it like this. I can't turn into that person again Bass."

His spine went rigid, forcing his body to stand erect. He held his head high, not turning around when he spoke again, "I know. But I can."

Slamming the door shut behind, he effectively cut off all forms of communication with Miles, focusing on the task at hand. All too soon he was clomping down the steps of the dungeon, boots pulverizing the stone as Connor's smug face came into view.

"Ahhh, back so soon father, I knew you couldn't leave me down here."

He said nothing, jamming the key into the lock, throwing the cell door backwards as it bounced against the metal frame. Connor's eyes went wide in fear, drinking in the maddening sight. Bass advanced forward, grabbing Connor and hoisting him to his feet. "Where's Charlie?"

Oh great, this again. He should've known, it was always about Charlie. "How should I know? She's your whor—"

Bass flung him into the nearest wall, delivering a forceful left hook to his face, silencing him. "Where's Charlie?"

He cupped his face, spitting out some of the pooling blood. "I don't know what you're talking about. In case you haven't noticed I was exiled—"

Again Bass executed a clean blow, ramming his clenched fist into Connor's rib cage. Not even flinching when the air expelled from his lungs, causing him to wheeze. "Where's Charlie?"

"I don't know—"

"Where's Charlie?!" He bellowed, sound so loud it could shatter every single window within the walls of the castle. His hands wrapped around Connor's neck, thumbs pressing into the column of his throat as he wildly growled. "You decided it wasn't enough to try and kill me, and then frame her for the murder. You had to go and have her kidnapped. You're sick and demented, and sure as hell no son of mine. But I'll spare your worthless life if you tell me where you took her."

He didn't let up, not even when Connor's fists bagged against his forearms and he all but gasped for air. When his leg came up to knee Bass, he stomped down hard on his foot, smacking his head upon the wall behind.

"I—I…don'ttt—k-kno…" that's all he could pant out, feeling the air rushing from his body. He knew his father was a bit hostile and crazy, but he had no idea what he was capable of. His face remained firm, dead set on his story. He had no idea where the bitch was, but she was causing trouble even when she wasn't around. He had no idea where she was, but he wasn't sorry someone snatched her up.

Bass held on a few more minutes, feeling Connor's body struggle underneath his bruising force until he got a good look in his eyes. His gut told him Connor was telling the truth. Besides, his whole plan was woven around Bass dying and him being able to marry Charlie. It didn't seem to completely fit that he would kidnap her. That and the fact that Connor wasn't as devious as he let on to be. He was angry, lashing out at Bass any way he could think of, but anger often clouded your reason and logic. Connor would have no idea how to utilize the anger to his best advantage. Connor was far from cunning or clever. He was only able to succeed because Bass' guard was down momentarily, otherwise the plan never would've unfolded. No, Connor didn't do this.

Flexing his fingers, he watched as Connor's body dropped like a sack of potatoes to the ground below, chest rapidly expanding as he gasped for air.

His hands shook as he looked down at the marks rising to the surface of Connor's skin. The glow of the moon from the barred window highlighted the wound, enhancing the action he just committed, to his own son no less. He looked away, not uttering another sound as he sealed the cell door behind him, locking it into place.

Fortunately, Connor hadn't regained the use of his snippy mouth, still struggling for air like a flopping fish out of water. He couldn't retort or put up a fight.

Bass continued to peer down at his hands, thoughts swirling around in his head. How could someone act in such a violent manner towards their own flesh and blood? In that moment, he turned into a monster, just as the moon could transform a person into a werewolf in fables. Suddenly, impulsively, and without their control. He didn't even know if he was going to be able to stop himself from draining the life from Connor's cruel, cold eyes.

His only saving grace was a distant, melodious voice ringing in his ears. Faint at first, but firm and commanding. The more he strained to hear, the louder the voice grew until he could recognize it beyond a shadow of a doubt. It was Charlie's voice. Same soft tone, slowly oozing out like molasses in a jar and just as sweet.

He couldn't help but think if he was capable of inflicting pain on his own son, what kind of people were Charlie with? Was she undergoing the same kind of treatment from her captives? His blood boiled with rage from the mere idea alone.

Luckily for Charlie she wasn't faring nearly as bad as Connor was, though whoever she was with were far from hospitable. They barely even spoke complete sentences, grunting out answers to one another. Not that she could focus in on their voices for the first half of the journey, still woozy and half-unconscious. When she finally did come around they noticed the change in her body language and opted for silence.

She had no idea how long they had been traveling or even where they were going. She could feel dirt beneath her feet for a while, tripping and stumbling over branches as they all but dragged her. She wasn't going to make this easy for them, especially because most of the time they had her gagged after getting annoying with listening to her speak.

They only removed the cloth to shove food into her mouth after she sassily claimed there would be no need to take her, wherever they were going because she would starve to death before then. It was a little dramatic, but it worked in her favor.

When more voices joined in her body went on full alert, trying to decipher the sounds penetrating her ears. There were too many to concentrate. It didn't make much of a difference because she was lifted up by the waist, body shuddering in disgust before her bottom felt a saddle beneath it.

Great, they were now turning to horses, which meant the place wasn't close by. And it also meant that her ass would be sore, forced to ride sidesaddle as someone glued their arm around her.

The trotting of the horse jerked her body up and down, but mimicked a lulling, soothing motion. She couldn't help her drooping head, falling forward as she succumbed to the drowsiness overtaking her body for a few hours. Or rather what felt like a few hours, there was really no sense of time nor did she have a way of knowing. At least asleep she could escape for a little while, though nightmares plagued her mind, attacking her body on all fronts.

Each time she fell asleep she could see her father's face and feel the frost from his icy words. She saw images of his devilish face flooding her mind, filling her senses with fear and worry. She was worried what this would do to him, what kind of change it would bring about in him. Would it dig up things that were meant to stay buried in the past? Things she had yet to see for herself, nor did she particularly want to.

The only other person who was a continuous figure in her dreams was Bass. The only way she knew it was him was from his looks, there was no mistaking that. Other than his physical appearance, everything else about his was different. It was as though she was glancing into another universe, or maybe seeing his past life. What he was before all of this. His worried, grief stricken face plucked at her heartstrings. She could feel a knife twisting in her heart, wanting nothing more than to comfort him, to call out to him, but even in her dream she was powerless. That didn't stop her from trying to communicate, but she was always cut off, thrown back into reality.

This time the jarring motion jerked her entire body, realizing they had stopped and she was being lowered back to the ground. There was a lot more noise around this place; she could hear the distinct grating of metal against rocks, people sharpening swords no doubt. She could smell the burning fumes of iron accompanied by the clattering of objects against metal. It sounded similar to the training grounds at Longstead, if they were making weapons.

Once cement stone beneath her tired, weary feet replaced the dust and dirt, the cloth was removed from her mouth, but never her eyes. "Where are we? What are we doing here? Who are you? What is it you want?" She relentlessly hurled the questions in succession at them, not caring if they went back to gagging her.

She was shocked when an actual voice spoke directly to her. Not specifically answering her questions, but giving her some sort of insight.

"You'll find out soon enough. Princess," the voice spat the word, bitterly chuckling when a frown worked its way onto Charlie's face.

Chills ran along her spine, freezing her entire body. For the first time since the start of the grueling journey, she had no questions.


End file.
